Lone Knight
by M.J.Emery
Summary: An ambush leads to circumstances that rapidly spiral out of control, leaving a knight alone and many others in grave danger. COMPLETED
1. Default Chapter

Title: Lone Knight

Summary: An ambush leads to circumstances that rapidly spiral out of control, leaving a knight alone and many others in grave danger.

Rating: PG – 13

Authors notes: This idea has been plaguing me since I first saw the movie and I have finally got round to putting pen to paper so to speak. This is my first foray into a new genre and I hope it is successful. Feedback is very much appreciated :-)

OO

It was a bitterly cold day, snow flurries whirled around on the icy current of the north wind. Frost and black ice marred the cold landscape and all those of sensible persuasions were tucked up beneath furs in their thatched huts. This was apart from one Roman commander and six very disgruntled Sarmatian knights. Huddled beneath cloaks the six knights were glaring, albeit more good-naturedly than with all consuming hatred, at their Roman Commander, who was studiously ignoring them fearing the beginning of another pointless round of childish moaning. Unfortunately for him that was not to be.

"Well this is just lovely? Who needs toes and fingers anyway? Very much overrated." Galahad muttered loud enough for all the other knights to hear.

"That may well be so but I cannot live without my arms and legs neither of which at the present moment I can feel." Gawain replied shivering.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "They are probably laughing at us." Lancelot said. "Who else but the Sarmatian knights would be wondering around Britain in the depths of winter?"

An arrow sailing through the air answered the question and it impaled itself in the flank of Lancelot's horse. The bay stallion screamed in pain and shied violently to the side colliding with Bors, who reached out to try and hold Lancelot in the saddle. Lancelot shifted his weight in an attempt to steady the frightened animal but it had unbalanced itself and fell. The knight slipped forward onto the horse's neck and then proceeded to fall sideways as the animal desperately tried to regain its feet. With a shout of pain Lancelot hit the ground hard, his left foot becoming entangled in the stirrup. The normally calm horse was almost crazed with the pain and pranced around trying to get rid of the weight on one side of its body. Lancelot lay dazed and still, his body only moving in response to the horse's jerky movements. It was at this moment the woads broke free of the tree line and charged the knights.

O

Everything had happened so quickly in Arthur's eyes. The complaining of the knights had commanded most of his attention and his first indication of a problem was when Lancelot's horse screamed. Arthur had turned in his saddle to see the bay horse stumble and eventually fall taking his second in command with it. Lancelot's head hit the ground hard leaving the man stunned. The animal thrashed for a moment before regaining its feet. Lancelot had not been lucky and his left foot was trapped in the stirrup. He watched as Tristan reached out to try and grab the reins of the panicked horse but it moved out of his way. Bors was more successful, grabbing the reins and pulling the horse to him. Before anyone could reach Lancelot woads burst out of the trees.

"Knights form up!" Arthur commanded and he watched out of the corner of his eye as Lancelot's horse reared up causing Bors to lose his hold. The stallion became further panicked by the harsh screaming of the woads and bolted. Arthur drew Excalibur and turned to face the oncoming battle knowing that he would not reach the stranded knight before the woads got to them. Hopefully the woads would be more focused on the remaining knights rather than Lancelot.

'God protect him' he whispered as he fought to get his heart and mind focused on the approaching battle and not his best friend.

A series of crossbow arrows brought down a number of the first line of Britains' and then with a war cry the knights leapt into battle.

As usual the fight was fast and furious but the knights moved instinctively, an ability they had acquired through years and years of hard training and battle experience. Bors slashed with his sword bellowing with every thrust. Dagonet was at his back as he always was, ploughing extremely powerful strokes into the enemy, sometimes taking two down with one pass. Galahad and Gawain were fighting together as was usual for them, so in tune with each other that when one ducked a blow the other was there to kill the attacker.

O

Lancelot cursed and his dark mood didn't improve as he realised his horse was dragging him away from the battle field. Although he supposed it was better than being dragged towards into the battle in the position that he was in. He could hear the Britains' cries and he struggled to get the stirrup to release his foot. The mad dash of his panicked horse quickly came to an end as it grew tired and halted, breathing heavily. The loss of blood and extreme exhaustion resulted in the horse falling to its knees and moving to lie down.

"Don't you dare!" Lancelot threatened the stallion but to no avail as it lay down, his leg now trapped under the animal. There would be little chance of freeing himself by getting the horse to move so he reached behind him to try and retrieve one of his swords. With a lot of effort he withdrew one of the swords and reached down to try and cut the stirrup leather. Before he got very far a shadow loomed over him and a sword tip nudged at his throat.

O

Arthur knew that this battle would be over quickly, this group were much smaller than what they normally faced and it was clear that it was only a scouting party. Just as those thoughts were playing across his mind he had to suddenly duck to avoid literally losing his head. The woad who had swung the blow stumbled as his blade hit nothing but air and this allowed Arthur to swing around and plunge Excalibur into the mans abdomen. Pulling the sword out of the man he whirled to face two of the blue warriors that sought to overcome him. With a smirk at their naivety and arrogance he fainted forward and both men leapt to meet him. At the last moment Arthur pulled back and the men had to desperately check their forward momentum leaving them unbalanced and unable to bring their swords to bear. Arthur capitalised on this and in quick succession he took out both men.

"Lancelot!" Galahad bellowed as he saw the predicament that the knight was in. Arthur whirled to see Lancelot's horse on the ground with the knight trapped below it. A woad stood above him with a sword at the knight's throat.

"NO!" Bors roared as he saw Galahad hurl one of his knives at the woad's back. Arthur watched in horror as the sword struck the man in the back knocking him forward onto the prone Sarmatian. The knights desperate to find out the fate of their comrade fought almost in frenzy. The woads' that had stood little chance before had no chance now and they were cut down swiftly.

Arthur ran towards his best friend, his heart in his throat. Skidding to a halt Arthur roughly pulled the dead woad off Lancelot and flung him aside.

"Can you get this bloody horse off me?!" Lancelot gasped.

"Oh god don't you scare us like that again!" Arthur exclaimed as he collapsed to his knees next to his friend. The Sarmatian groaned.

"You're bleeding!" Arthur suddenly cried. A long gash starting at Lancelot's collarbone ran down his chest. It was from the sword that the woad had held, which had scraped across the knights skin when he had fallen.

Arthur moved his hands to cover it, the bright red of Lancelot's blood staining his gloves. Lancelot hissed and batted his hands away.

"Don't touch it! I'm fine! Just get this damned horse off me." Lancelot growled

"You are most certainly not fine." Arthur snapped.

"I am to. It's a scratch." Lancelot's voice wavered and he closed his eyes. He suddenly didn't feel so good.

"Don't you close your eyes." He heard Arthur command. "That's an order."

Instead of a response Lancelot winced, his forehead crinkling with pain. He blinked frequently trying to clear his rapidly blurring vision. Nausea swelled and he swallowed trying to settle his stomach, he would not throw up in front of them.

"Lancelot!" a voice snapped and someone began tapping his cheeks.

"Lancelot!" the voice continued incessantly and he blinked his eyes open to see Dagonet poised above him.

"Do not go to sleep. You have a concussion and you must stay awake."

Lancelot closed his eyes again deciding that Dagonet was asking too much. His head hurt and he wanted to sleep. No amount of cajoling or even dire threats would stop him. With a deep sigh he let the darkness claim him.

OO


	2. Chapter 2

Authors notes: - Thank you so much for the great reviews. They cheered me up immensely (why is the last year of university so hard?). A big thank you to Camlann, Lancey, mrs jdhappiness and Laura B. I hope you continue to enjoy this.

OO

"Lancelot!" Arthur cried as his friend went limp. Dagonet cursed the younger knight.

"Why don't you ever listen?" Dagonet sighed.

"He'll have to ride with you and we need to move quickly." The knight continued. Arthur nodded and rose to his feet. Tristan had coaxed Lancelot's bay off the prone knight. The stallion was stood a few paces away from the group its head down to its knees, chest heaving. Sweat poured down its flanks and it shook with the effort it had to expel to remain standing.

"He will not make it back with us." Tristan commented.

"Leave him. He will make it back if he can." Bors stated. The bay stallion was as stubborn as his master and would live just to spite the gods.

"Mount up." Arthur commanded. "We head back to the fort."

Moving quickly the Roman mounted his grey stallion and reached out to accept Lancelot. Dagonet and Bors lifted the young knight gently and placed him in front of Arthur. He then shifted the injured man until he was in a comfortable position while being able to clasp the reins easily. The other knights mounted and they urged the horses into gallop.

After a while Arthur moved his arm to hold Lancelot more securely as the limp body tilted and he reassured himself that his best friend was still alive by placing the palm of his hand over Lancelot's heart. The familiar thump calmed his frantic thoughts. Why had a small scouting party attacked them when they knew they had no chance of victory? Had the arrow been deliberately aimed at Lancelot considering that he had been behind the front line of knights?

"Stop." A weak voice commanded. Arthur jumped as he realised that it was Lancelot.

"Stop what? Do you feel sick? Are you in pain?" he demanded urgently. Lancelot shifted forcing Arthur to tighten his hold to prevent the knight falling off.

"Yes to both but that's not what I meant." The knight whispered before hissing in pain.

"Stop beating yourself up over this. There was nothing you could have done."

"I should have seen them."

"How? According to you only your god is all seeing and you most certainly are not a god." Lancelot choked and then groaned. Arthur opened his mouth to continue protesting but Lancelot hushed him.

"Our profession isn't exactly the safest, injuries happen. So stop it."

Arthur sighed and spoke no further but Lancelot knew he had done little to alleviate his friend's self imposed guilt. Before his thoughts on the subject could continue they were suddenly diverted to his stomach.

'The vast amount I had for the morning meal suddenly seems a mistake.' Lancelot thought ruefully as it churned alarmingly. He was going to be sick and what was worse he was going to be sick in front of the others.

"Stop!" he commanded in as strong a voice as he could muster. Unfortunately it came out more as a strangled whisper.

"Pardon?" he heard Arthur murmur.

"Stop. You need to stop." He said as his body added a heave to the plea. Arthur must have felt something instead of hearing his whispered cries because he halted his horse quickly. Lancelot fumbled in his attempt to get off the horse and Arthur quickly dismounted pulling Lancelot with him. The knight barely managed two steps before he fell to his knees and vomited. Arthur moved to stand next to him shielding him slightly from the others to give him some semblance of privacy. He wanted to offer some comfort but he knew that Lancelot's pride refused to allow him to accept any help. The other knights had halted a way away knowing Lancelot's desire for privacy.

Arthur winced at the terrible spasms that racked his friend's body even after he had brought up all he could. Un - strapping his water skin he waited until Lancelot had sat back on his haunches breathing heavily in an attempt to calm his body. Passing the skin Arthur watched as Lancelot swilled it around his mouth before spitting it out. He handed it back to Arthur who frowned.

"You should drink something." He said softly. Lancelot lifted his head to glare at him.

"My stomach disagrees and I am more inclined to agree with it than you." He muttered and attempted to get to his feet. Arthur caught him as he fell.

"Stop being so stubborn! You have a concussion, I'll be surprised if your leg isn't badly damaged and not to mention the sword wound…what?!" Arthur demanded as he caught the look Lancelot sent him. The knight shook his head slightly and murmured something of which Arthur only caught the words 'damned' and 'mother hen'. Rolling his eyes Arthur helped Lancelot to his horse. Dagonet had dismounted silently and helped Arthur get the knight into the saddle. It was a testament to the hurts that Lancelot had suffered that the knight had not protested to the help he had been given. Arthur quickly remounted and Lancelot leant tiredly against him. The knights galloped on.

O

Four hours later the fort was in sight and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. Lancelot had not stirred for at least the last couple of hours apart from the occasional shudder. He knew that rest was important for the younger knight but it was disconcerting for him to be so quiet.

The gates were heaved open and the horses clattered up the main road into the courtyard. Jols and the other squires quickly assembled to see to the horses. As soon as the senior squire saw Lancelot sat in front of Arthur he sent one of the other squires to get the doctor. As they drew to a halt Jols stepped forward to help with Lancelot. Although he was still partially conscious he clearly would be able to offer no help.

"What happened?" Jols questioned as they gently eased him to the ground.

"An arrow took down his horse and trapped him underneath."

He looked up to see the doctor had appeared with two orderlies.

"Lets move him quickly." The doctor stated. He rose and quickly held up his hands.

"No you will not all descend on this patient and bother my personnel. I will come and get you when I am done. I just need to know the nature of his injuries. He fell off his horse?"

"In a manner of speaking, an arrow hit his horse…" Arthur started but halted as the doctor waved him off.

"That sort of detail is not necessary. Did he hit his head?" The doctor began to follow the stretcher forcing Arthur to follow him.

"Yes. His left leg was trapped underneath the horse and he has a sword wound across his chest."

They reached the small hospital and Lancelot disappeared inside.

"You like to keep things interesting I will grant you that." Just as Arthur was about to speak the doctor turned and shut the door in his face.

'If he wasn't such a good doctor' Arthur thought as he stared at the wooden door. Turning he made his way back to the other knights. They were in the main hall slowly removing their armour while drinking goblets of warmed wine.

"Shut the door in your face?" Bors questioned. Arthur nodded and sat down tiredly.

"Where's Tristan?" he asked not surprised that the knight wasn't there but wondering all the same.

"Apparently Lancelot's horse was following us albeit at a much slower pace. He lost sight of it about an hour from here. He's waiting for it to arrive." Gawain said.

"What makes him think that it hasn't dropped dead?" Bors said as he downed his wine with one big gulp.

"Because it is as bloody pig-headed as its master." Galahad responded from his position prodding the fire into life. Arthur slowly sipped his wine. The knights' would remain within the hall until news of Lancelot's fate reached them; it was a vigil that they maintained every time someone was injured. Then they would go to the tavern and drink themselves into oblivion either to drown their sorrows or celebrate. Either way much drink will be consumed. Arthur drained his goblet and stared into the fire letting the flames hypnotise him as his thoughts turned back to Lancelot.

OO


	3. Chapter 3

Authors notes: - Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews. They are much appreciated. I hope you enjoy this!! Happy Holidays!

OO

Tristan watched as the bay stallion staggered into view, it stumbled falling to its knees and Tristan smiled tightly as it snorted in what appeared to be annoyance. The horse struggled to its feet and stood with all four legs splayed like it was trying to keep its balance on ice. Hurrying down the stairs leading to the battlements Tristan quickly moved onto the plain in front of the fort. By the time he reached the horse it was moving forward barely a leg at a time. Upon seeing Tristan it raised its head and nickered a greeting.

"Hello to you to." The scout answered as he smoothed his hand along the arched neck that despite the exhaustion and wounds still looked magnificent. Moving swiftly Tristan loosened the girth and the horse breathed out long and loud.

"That's better is it not." He whispered leading the horse onwards towards the fort. Infinitely patient the scout matched the exhausted horse's pace. A squire came out to collect the animal but Tristan waved him away, he would see to the brave horse himself.

The inside of the stables brought an exhale of breath from the horse as if sighing in relief. The squire had sent for the vet who entered shortly after them. With a manner as brusque as the doctor he approached the pair.

"You are almost as bad as your master Scimitar." He said with a pat of the neck.

"Gruel." He stated and Tristan paused in the un - tacking to glance at the vet.

"Make him a warm gruel and then rub him down." Tristan frowned and continued to remove the bridle. The man said no more realising that Tristan only followed one Roman's orders. He moved to study the arrow wound. Scimitar had lost a lot of blood and it left a dark sticky path down its leg. The arrow itself was still firmly lodged deep within the flesh. This was going to be a problem especially if part of it broke off. They needed to get Scimitar on his side to give a degree of stability to the operation, the only down side would be whether the bay stallion could rise again. Once a horse was down in his experience they rarely got up. He did not want that to happen for Lancelot would kill him if another of his horses died.

"We need to get him on his side." He stated. Tristan nodded and moved Scimitar into enough space to lie down. He had seen Lancelot prompt the horse to fall to its knees but he didn't know if the horse would do the same for him. Repeating the movements on the bay the horse just turned its head and regarded him with an expression of bemusement, snorting as if laughing the horse dropped to its knees and then lay down. Kneeling next to its head Tristan soothed the horse. Two squires appeared and moved to aid the vet.

A few minutes later Scimitar squealed in pain and kicked out.

"I think you should look at this." The vet said. Tristan turned to see the vet handing him the arrow.

"Its Roman." With a final pat Tristan left the stable with the bloody arrow shaft.

OO

The doctor placed his hand on Lancelot's forehead and smiled in satisfaction. No fever as of yet and it looked as though he had gotten to the wound quick enough to prevent infection. Now the only problem would be keeping the knight in bed. His leg was badly bruised and he would not be able to walk for at least a couple of days, even then it would be with a limp. The concussion would probably be better by tomorrow although he feared for his orderlies safety as they had to wake him up every few hours to check that he hadn't suffered any serious damage. Perhaps he could get one of the knights to do it. With strict instructions on how to monitor the knight he left to head to the main hall.

As he entered the attention of the knights focused upon him. Arthur rose to his feet.

"How is he?" the Roman asked.

"He will be fine. The concussion is not as serious as I first thought although he will have to be woken every few hours."

Bors laughed loudly.

"Who has the misfortune of that job?"

"Volunteering?" the doctor asked pointedly and the knight promptly shut up. Turning his attention back to Arthur he continued.

"His leg is badly bruised and he will need to stay in bed for a couple of days."

At Arthur's disbelieving look the doctor shrugged.

"Well as long as we can manage. I will sedate him if necessary."

Arthur knew the doctor would carry out that threat, he had done it before. Before anything could be said Tristan appeared and dropped an arrow on the table in front of Arthur. Puzzled he picked it up and then looked at Tristan for conformation. Tristan glanced at the rest of the knights and Arthur nodded.

"So Lancelot will be well then?"

The doctor nodded.

"Good." Bors announced. "Vanora is waiting. Let's go." Galahad immediately followed Bors out of the room. Gawain and Dagonet had both seen Tristan drop the arrow and were looking at them with curious expressions. Arthur shook his head and indicated that they should go; he would talk to them later.

"If that is all I will get back to my patient?" the doctor said.

"Thank you." Arthur acknowledged. Gawain and Dagonet left with him. As soon as the doors shut Arthur turned to Tristan.

"Where did you get this?" he asked already having formed a good opinion of where it had come from.

"Lancelot's horse."

With a furious expression Arthur slammed the arrow back on to the table.

"Is there any chance that the woads could have been using Roman arrows?" he asked.

"There is always a first time."

Arthur sighed and dropped into the chair suddenly exhausted.

"So how does a Roman arrow find its way into the horse of a knight?"

"A rogue Roman unit?" Tristan wondered

With a sigh Arthur groaned.

"There were reports of a cavalry unit going missing. It was thought that they had been the victims of an ambush but absolutely no trace of their unit, horses, weapons, bodies has been found, nothing. I didn't think much of it, I thought the woads may have taken them all and were going to taunt us at a later point. Now I am not so sure."

"If they mutinied why would they attack us?" Tristan mused considering the options. "Maybe they have formed an alliance with the woads?"

Arthur again sighed. "Go join the men and I will sort this out. I shall go and talk to the legionary centurion. If there is a rogue unit we will have to find them and take them out. This is the last thing we need as winter takes hold."

Tristan nodded. "Tell Lancelot his horse should live."

"He will be pleased to here that." With a nod the scout left. Arthur closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Picking up the arrow he left the hall and headed for the centurion's quarters.

OO


	4. Chapter 4

Authors Notes: Thanks again for all the amazing reviews!!! I am quickly approaching the end of term so my updates might be a little later than normal as I have to fight over a computer and prepare for relatives descending on us for Christmas. I will try to keep posting at the same frequency but please bear with me. Anyways on with the story… oh I have changed the rating due to some language, I am from the UK and I don't know the US rating system so if PG – 13 was ok I will change it back. :-)

OO

"Lancelot…Artorius Castus…I have no idea of the date of my birth and I don't give a damn what day it is…now bloody leave me alone." Lancelot snarled sleepily without even opening his eyes. Arthur chuckled as he sat on the chair next to the bed.

"Would you keep it down?" the knight demanded and he cracked open one eye to glare at Arthur.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine apart from some irritating people who insist on waking me every hour and asking me pointless questions." A distinctly unimpressed Lancelot muttered as he hauled himself into a sitting position. Arthur didn't miss the wince that flashed across his friends face as the stitches on his chest pulled.

"They are only checking if you sustained serious damage."

Lancelot smirked. "Most would say that it is already too late. Anyway they should ask me questions that I know the answers to in the first place. When is my birthday? No idea apart from the spring sometime. How many bastards has Bors got? Who knows? As for days of the week…" Lancelot shrugged. "I never keep track!"

Arthur laughed. "Glad to see that you are fully aware of all that is going on." As his laughter died away he noticed that Lancelot was studying him intently.

"What is troubling you?" the knight asked.

"Nothing. It is nothing." Arthur avoided and Lancelot shook his head with exasperation.

"Fine keep your secrets my head hurts too much to think about it."

"Well some would say that wasn't too much of a concern seen as thinking obviously isn't a major undertaking of yours." The Roman laughed at Lancelot's affronted expression.

Lancelot decided to change the subject. "Did Scimitar make it back?"

"Yes Tristan is seeing to him."

Lancelot sighed he had lost his more favoured horse two weeks ago from colic. He had spent the night walking the horse around the stable but by dawn the black stallion had gone down and died shortly after. Lancelot had disappeared for the rest of the day, his horses were his friends and he mourned their deaths. Arthur watched relief flash across the knight's features.

"A new horse was brought in by one of the legionary commanders. He hates it…too feisty apparently. Perfect for you."

Lancelot nodded his head tiredly and he moved to place his legs over the side of the bed.

"Where do you think you are going?" Arthur questioned placing a refraining hand on the knight's chest, careful to avoid the stitched wound.

"To check out this new horse. It had better not be like the last nag."

"Firstly, you are not going anywhere and secondly, it was not a nag. It was a perfectly fine horse."

Lancelot scowled. "Firstly…" he mimicked sarcastically. "I am getting out of this bed and you are not going to stop me. Secondly it was not a perfectly fine horse. It was a monster."

Arthur laughed. "Just because he bit you."

"That damned monster took a chunk out of my arm." Arthur had to admit the animal was leaning towards crazy but it was fun to wind the younger man up. Lancelot attempted to get up again and Arthur restrained him.

"The doctor will sedate you." The Roman stated.

"Not if he knows what is good for him." Lancelot threatened.

"Treat it as a rest. Put your feet up." With an expression of complete disbelief Lancelot shoved the man backwards. He then pulled himself to his feet and promptly fell forward into Arthur's awaiting arms.

Depositing him back on his bed Arthur glared sternly at him.

"I should have let you fall and teach you a lesson." Arthur commented as he helped the man to sit up.

"Maybe you should have." Lancelot snapped and immediately looked guilty.

"Sorry." Arthur shook his head saying that no apology was necessary.

"Get some sleep my friend." The Roman rose to his feet. "Or the doctor will indeed sedate you."

Like a petulant child Lancelot pouted and led back down.

"I will bring you something to eat later." There was no reply and Arthur saw that Lancelot was already asleep, curled up with one hand resting next to his face.

"Pleasant dreams." He said as he closed the door gently.

Jols was waiting for Arthur when he left Lancelot's room.

"Get the knights together in the main hall now." He said and Jols hurried away.

OO

"What do you think he wants?" Galahad questioned.

"To announce that our next mission is to build a boat using our own hair and sail west to conquer the neighbouring island." Gawain stated with a deadly serious expression. Galahad's mouth dropped open with shock. Bors erupted with laughter.

"You are so gullible."

"I didn't believe him." Galahad protested but Bors had doubled over and Dagonet slapped him on the back as he turned an alarming red colour. Gawain had joined in and even Tristan was smiling.

Arthur entered the room and took in the laughing knights and shook his head slightly as he realised the laughter would stop as soon as he broke his news.

"So when does the boat building start? I suggest we shave Gawain or Tristan first." Bors said laughing loudly. Arthur halted mid – step. 'Oh god had they drunk too much already?' he wondered. He knew when they got going they could drink a tavern dry in a matter of hours; hopefully he had gotten to them quickly enough.

"Shut up!" Galahad snapped.

Arthur shook his head and moved to stand in his usual place. He placed the arrow on the table and as it clattered all eyes focused on it. Dagonet reached forward and picked it up. With a frown he studied it.

"This is the arrow that was recovered from Lancelot's horse. It is Roman." He paused and watched the expressions of the knights' change. Tristan already knew and to some extent Arthur thought Dagonet had already guessed.

Bors leapt to his feet, fury replacing the humour that had previously occupied it.

"WHAT?!" he roared.

"You are kidding?" Galahad stated an expression of disbelief on his face.

"I wish I was." Arthur said tiredly.

"Show me the bastards and I will gladly part their heads from their bodies." Gawain said hotly.

"We give thirteen years of fucking servitude to the Roman Empire and they repay us by trying to kill us like cowards. Is that their plan to pick us off one by one?" Bors spat and rose to his feet. Dagonet restrained him and forced his to sit back down.

"Maybe Lancelot pissed off a Roman and this was just revenge?" Tristan stated wanting to put forward all possible circumstances.

"This is not the Roman way. Lancelot, indeed all of us, has annoyed a Roman soldier in one way or another at some point. You fight, and then hours later you are drinking together." Arthur pointed out.

"Not all Romans are honourable." Dagonet stated.

"True but for the time being I do not think that this attack was aimed at Lancelot. There have been reports of a cavalry unit from a fort south of the wall disappearing. I have talked to the legionary centurion and it has been decided that we, with a detachment of legionaries, will set out to find them."

"How do we know they are not dead?" Gawain questioned.

"Woads normally parade any kills, to gloat. They have been missing for awhile."

"So they have turned?" Bors asked. "Sided with the Woads?"

"I can see no other explanation." Arthur replied.

"What business would they have attacking us?" Galahad asked confused.

"They, with the help of the Woads, may have grown cockier. They may think they can take us now." Gawain suggested.

"There may be larger schemes in process. We need to investigate, that it why we leave for the fort at dawn tomorrow."

Bors grinned. "Then we shall repay them ten – fold for attacking us."

"What about Lancelot?" Galahad asked.

"He cannot walk. He will not be coming with us." Arthur stated firmly.

"Does he know yet?" Bors joked.

"No."

"Good luck then." The man grinned. That would be an interesting conversation.

OO


	5. Chapter 5

Author notes: Thank you so much for the reviews!!!

OO

"WHAT?!" Lancelot roared his whole frame shaking with anger. Arthur refused to react and remained calm.

"You will not be going."

"Like hell I won't. You can't stop me!" Lancelot challenged.

"Don't tell me I have to explain the workings of the command structure again? I am in command and you will do as I say and stay here. If necessary I will get the doctor to sedate you again."

"You wouldn't dare!" Lancelot snarled.

"Try me. You are injured and you need to rest. You are in no fit state to fight and I don't want anyone to have to keep an eye on you in battle." Arthur argued. Lancelot scowled.

"I do not need anyone to look after me."

"If you go into battle others may be distracted, worried for your safety and that could prove fatal. In addition you will tire quickly and I do not wish for you to be injured further or even die." Arthur knew it was a low blow but he needed Lancelot to understand that all Arthur wanted to do was to protect him. Unfortunately Lancelot made it so difficult that he had to resort to threats.

"Fine." The knight said subdued. "If I am that much of a liability."

"You know that is not what I meant." Arthur stated wearily.

Lancelot led back down and turned to face the wall.

"Throw a tantrum all you want." The Roman said standing up. "But acting like a five year old is unbecoming of a knight."

Lancelot rolled over to face him, his face scrunched in a painful grimace.

"I am not acting like a five year old. I am a knight and I do not 'rest' well. I do not like being left behind while you go into battle. Being a knight is all I am good at and now being stuck in here makes me feel as if I have no purpose, that I am useless."

Arthur sighed and he knelt next to the bed.

"You are not useless. There is no fault in being wounded. Just focus on getting better so you can bring your own unique bland of mayhem to future proceedings."

Lancelot smiled and a yawn enveloped him.

"Now get some sleep and we will be back before you know it."

"Don't do anything stupid." Lancelot stated.

"Seeing as you are not going to be there I think the chances of that are pretty good." Arthur joked. Lancelot glared and the Roman laughed as he exited.

As soon as he was gone Lancelot pushed himself into a sitting position. With a groan he moved to stand up. A wave of dizziness hit him and he wavered, grabbing hold of the chair to stop himself falling to the ground. Cursing he clutched the wall and took a tentative step forward, as soon as his weight landed on his left leg it buckled.

"Shit." He muttered as he tried to regain his footing. Inching forward he approached the small window in the opposite wall. The first rays of winter's sun were peaking out from the horizon heralding the arrival of the dawn. Smiling in triumph as he reached the window he looked out to see the courtyard in which the knights and legionaries were getting prepared.

As he watched them getting ready his thoughts turned to Arthur. Apparently Arthur had come to talk to him last night but the doctor had followed through on his threat and sedated him. He still felt groggy now! Apparently the doctor wasn't fond of being yelled at and having his parentage questioned…who knew? Lancelot thought with a smile. All this incident had taught him was not to eat or drink anything supplied by the doctor and to watch his eyes for evil glints. Turning his attention back to the window he heard Arthur command the knights to mount and with a clatter of hooves they left.

"What are you doing out of bed?" a familiar voice snapped.

"Planning an escape out of the window." Lancelot stated folding his arms across his chest.

"I don't know why I bother." The doctor grumbled.

"Because without us you would be bored stiff. We bring a little excitement to your otherwise dull life."

"I don't know why I just don't slip a poison into your food instead of a sedative."

"Who else would you trade insults with?" Lancelot questioned grinning.

"I think I will survive. Now are you going to return to the bed willingly or not?"

"I think not!" Lancelot replied.

"Why Arthur won't let me tie you to the bed is beyond me." The doctor muttered as he turned and left. Lancelot smiled smugly until he heard the lock click.

Crap! He should have remembered the door locked from the outside. With a roll of his eyes he staggered back to his bed.

OO – 2 Days Later – OO

The trip to the fort was uneventful, not a woad in sight. It had been a slow journey, much slower than usual due to the legionaries tagging along. Bors was in a foul mood, itching to hit some unfortunate Roman over the head, so much so that Dagonet had steered him away from the main group and they were a couple of paces adrift from the others.

"So what's the plan?" Galahad questioned, loud enough for Arthur to hear, but so that the legionaries couldn't. Arthur slowed his horse and drew alongside Galahad.

"Firstly to establish what exactly has gone on. Then we set out to find them. They are still in this area so it shouldn't be too hard."

"I don't know woads are very good at hiding." Gawain stated. Arthur nodded.

"True."

After a beat Galahad spoke again.

"Do we have to work with the Romans?" he said with a kind of forlorn voice.

"The Romans will not let us work alone. We deal with our own. To a Roman nothing is worse than betrayal. If it comes down to it we may have to act as a pacifying force."

Gawain rolled his eyes.

"I can see that this mission is going to have a really positive outcome." He muttered sarcastically.

"If it was too easy it would be no fun." Tristan commented.

"Sadist." Galahad murmured and Tristan smiled in return.

The knights drew to a halt at the gates of the fort.

"STATE YOUR NAMES AND INTENTIONS." A voice called down from the battlements.

"I am Artorius Castus from Badon Hill."

The centurion in charge of the legionaries stepped forward.

"I am Centurion Marcus Pontius detached from the twentieth legion and stationed at Badon Hill. We wish to speak with your commander."

"WAIT THERE!" the voice replied.

"Where does he bloody well think we are going to go?" Bors snarled.

"Bors now is neither the time nor the place." Arthur stated forcefully. While they were here the knights would have to function without questioning his orders every few minutes. Roman command already thought he was being too lenient, the only reason they had not interfered was the fact that they had gotten good results. He did not want to tempt fate.

The gates groaned as they were opened and Arthur watched as a man flanked by four guards approached.

"I am Centurion Licinius commander of this fort. To what do I owe this pleasure?" the Roman sneered the last part and Arthur sighed internally. A Roman centurion with an attitude problem, this just gets better and better. Pontius was quite tolerant of the knights which was very lucky but he knew the feeling was not widespread.

Handing his reins to Gawain he dismounted.

"I am Artorius Castus." He said stepping forward.

"Centurion Licinius I am Centurion Pontius."

Licinius nodded his head at Pontius and then he turned to regard Arthur with a suspicious expression.

"We are here to discuss the matter of the missing cavalry unit from this fort." Arthur stated.

Immediately Licinius adopted a defensive stance.

"And since when did they concern you?" he questioned his eyes narrowing.

"Since a Roman arrow we suspect came from the unit took down one of my knights horses, injuring both the horse and knight."

"How can you be sure it was them?"

"Well that depends on how many other Romans are wondering around shooting arrows at knights?" Bors snarled again.

"Bors I don't want to have to tell you again." Arthur snapped not even looking at the knight.

"We suspect that it might be them." Arthur continued. "Because the woads would have mocked us by now if they had caught them."

"That is flimsy evidence."

"It may be." Pontius spoke up. "But the fact remains that their fate needs to be determined."

Silence reigned for a matter of minutes.

"Well you had better come in." He stepped back inside the gates to allow the knights and legionaries to enter. As Arthur passed through the gates he caught Licinius's eye. The debate was far from over.

OO


	6. Chapter 6

Authors notes: Many thanks again to all my lovely reviewers. I hope this instalment satisfies everyone and comments on what you liked/disliked are always welcome!

OO

"Well aren't we a sorry pair." Lancelot murmured as he stroked the neck of Scimitar, the horse nickered in agreement from its position on the ground next to the knight. Scimitar was no longer sprawled flat on his side; he had struggled up tucking its legs underneath its body. Lancelot was leaning on the stallion, running one hand down the animal's neck. Scimitar's head hung low occasionally turning to regard the knight.

Lancelot flexed his leg and winced as pain flared for a brief moment. With a groan he dropped it back down. Snorting Scimitar nudged him.

"Fine I won't do it again." He said.

"You two are so much alike it's scary." Jols commented as he halted in his work cleaning the stables.

"I will take that as a compliment." Lancelot smiled and Scimitar whinnied in agreement. Jols burst out laughing.

"Leg better then?" the squire asked.

"I got here didn't I." the knight said arrogantly.

"Definitely better." Jols muttered as he wondered away to continue his work.

"Well I should get going." Lancelot said and with a pat on the stallion's neck he rose to his feet, groaning as he did so. His head swam slightly and he gripped the side of the stall as it slowly righted itself. Scimitar shook his head and with a gusty sigh rose to his feet. Rubbing the bay's face, he scratched behind its ears.

"Nothing can keep us down can it?" He smiled. Scimitar nodded in agreement with a snort.

He hobbled to the stall door and carefully closed it behind him. Arthur's second grey stallion was stabled next door and his head quickly appeared demanding attention. Scimitar quickly poked his head over the door and whinnied upset that Lancelot was giving attention to another horse.

"Worried are you?" the knight said with amusement. "Well you are still my favourite." Lancelot pulled out an apple and held it out. Appeased the horse ate it eagerly. With a final pat Lancelot left the stall and hobbled across the stables to the stall at the far end. Jols had told him that was where the new animal was housed. Halting outside the stall he peered inside. At the back was stood a snowy white stallion that had been nicknamed 'the terror' by all the stable hands. Once the horse spotted Lancelot it pinned its ears back and shot across the stall teeth bared. The man didn't move, just crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. With his ever present smirk he nodded.

"Perfect." The horse just shrieked its protest.

O

"Well I don't think they are having a fucking party?" Bors yelled and Arthur resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands before proceeding to hit Bors over the head with something to put him out for the remainder of the visit. Fortunately Dagonet and Tristan hauled him out of the room before he could utter another word.

"Is insubordination a key part of the command style that you are currently employing?" Licinius questioned snidely.

"I apologise but as you can understand my men are upset. They have just had arrows shot at them by people who are supposedly on the same side. One of my knights was almost killed and tempers have frayed. Not even you can fault them for that." Arthur stated quietly his own temper close to breaking point. Before Licinius could respond Pontius interrupted.

"Back to the topic at hand we are proposing that two units of your soldiers, with all those that we brought with us set out to search for them." The centurion tried to stop Licinius offending Arthur or the Sarmatians any further. Arthur was normally calm but even the most even tempered person could be pushed too far, especially since the man's best friend was injured and Licinius was constantly deriding the Sarmatians.

"Will you aid us?"

"What's in it for me? They are most likely dead and all we would be doing is wondering around in enemy territory waiting for the woads to pick us off one by one."

"They could be but I think it is highly doubtful. Whatever your opinion it does not matter, I technically outrank you and you will do as I say. Their fate needs to be determined. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir." Licinius snapped. "My men will be ready at dawn." The centurion stood up, nodded at Pontius and left the room.

"You had better keep the knights under control Arthur. Licinius will do whatever he can to antagonise them in the hopes of causing an incident that he can report to higher command."

"Easier said than done. Lancelot would have clubbed Bors over the head by now or have said something to focus all their anger on him. They are so easy to wind up and he knows exactly how to press their buttons."

"A remarkable talent I am sure."

"He must be talented for no one has killed him yet." Arthur commented. "Although considering the attitudes of the Romans here it was probably better he was left behind."

"Indeed. How much trouble can one knight get into alone in a fort?" Pontius laughed and Arthur froze.

"I should have brought him with us."

O

'Is it possible for a man to be bored to death?' Lancelot pondered as he listened to the old man before him bemoaning the fact that the knights' horses' had churned up one of his fields. Frankly Lancelot could not see the problem and was at the present moment contemplating various ways to maim Jols for tricking him into this. An elbow in his ribs by the man himself refocused his attention on the old man who was looking at him expectantly. Realising that he had absolutely no idea what anyone had just said he turned to Jols and glared at him. Clearing his throat he turned back to the man. Quickly he ran through all possible answers and realised that if he said any of them he would probably cause an outrage, well tact wasn't one of his strong points.

"Um…thank you for bringing this to our attention, when Arthur returns I will make sure it is given the full attention it deserves." Lancelot lied smoothly knowing full well that if any of the other knights heard about this Bors would immediately take out his giant of a horse and ride up and down the field until it was a horrific mess. He would them proceed to scare the man until he keeled over. Luckily the man seemed appeased by this and left.

"Only five more." Jols stated happily, he stood intent to fetch the next one but Lancelot grabbed his arm and yanked Jols towards him, the man's face inches from his own.

"Unless men heralding the apocalypse are outside I am not speaking to anyone else. You have obviously mistaken me for someone who either cares or knows how to deal with them. Show another person in and I will use you as the prey in the next hunt." He snarled. Jols swallowed nervously as Lancelot let him go.

"I'll just tell them to leave." The squire ran out, slamming the door behind him.

Taking a huge gulp of the warmed wine he had been given Lancelot rose from his seat at the table tentatively putting weight on his leg. The door reopened.

"I sent them away." The squire stated looking nervous. Deciding to take pity on the man Lancelot smiled.

"Good. It would be easier to wait until Arthur returns. I am more likely to create ten more problems rather than solve one."

Jols smiled in return.

"Well seeing as we now have the rest of the day free, how about we look at that new horse of yours?"

Lancelot's smile broadened.

OO


	7. Chapter 7

Authors notes: Thank you for all the reviews :-) As this is probably my last post before Christmas (Cooking and finding various sleeping places for a multitude of relatives will be taking all my time!) I want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas. If you don't celebrate Christmas have a happy holiday!!!! I hope everyone has lots and lots of fun!!!!!

OO

Cursing that would have made even the most hardened knight stop and start flooded out of the stable. It was punctuated with deafening snorts and whinnies that had made all those in the vicinity flee fearing that some sort of demon had been unleashed. They were partially correct.

Lancelot stared at the sprawled Jols with unhidden amusement. The man was cursing up a storm using many concoctions of words that Lancelot would have to remember for future use. Although he doubted in the current situation cursing a horse's parentage and its future prospects as a father was having any effect. The animal in question was stood perfectly still, head held high and much to Lancelot's amusement was regarding Jols with an expression of disgust, well as much as a horse could express that emotion.

Carefully Jols rose gingerly to his feet and then proceeded to back away from the horse. As soon as he was out of immediate danger he turned to face Lancelot, who was leaning casually against a wooden post, arms crossed and smirking.

"This is all your fault." He spat emphasising each word with a jab of his finger.

"It was you who suggested we should look at the horse." Lancelot pointed out.

"Yes it was but you have been no help whatsoever."

"And what would you have me do? That horse is most certainly crazy, much more so than the last horse you supposedly had for me and that horse took a chunk out of my arm. Forgive me for learning my lesson." The knight said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I thought Sarmatians were meant to be great with horses." Jols said exasperatedly.

"Horses…yes. Demons masquerading as horses…no!" Lancelot watched as Jols turned an interesting shade of purple. With a cry of frustration the squire threw up his hands.

"Well its your bloody problem, so deal with the damned horse." The man stormed out. Lancelot shook his head and laughed. Pushing himself away from the post he stretched. He turned to regard the horse which was currently loose in the stable block.

Having initially resisted attempts to get the horse out of its stall it had burst into life knocking over Jols in the process. The demon had proceeded to run around the block intent on finding an escape but having anticipated this action all the doors had been secured. After figuring this out the horse planted itself firmly in the middle of the collection of stalls refusing any attempts to get it to budge. The other horses were regarding the grey with calm demeanours, even Scimitar's head had appeared over the division to his stall and had regarded the horse with contempt, before disappearing to feast on the treats Lancelot had deposited on his arrival. Hobbling to the door that led into the enclosed exercise yard Lancelot opened it and stood well back. After a brief moment the horse shot past him. Lancelot slowly followed smiling all the way.

O

Jols stood with the doctor in the doorway of the small hospital watching Lancelot sat in the centre of the enclosed exercise yard. The grey horse was stood a few paces away watching the man with interest. The two had been there for hours, Lancelot sat in the same place while the horse galloped, reared and bucked. Eventually the horse had calmed down.

"What exactly am I looking at?" the doctor asked with his ever present frown.

"A master in the art of horsemanship." Jols replied.

"You could have fooled me. Is sitting all part of the master plan?" the doctor questioned sceptically.

"The horse only acts out to seek attention, Lancelot has not done this and now it is curious as to why he has not even looked at him. Before, everyone has acted, for the most part, in anger towards it. Keep watching."

The two continued to watch in silence as the horse took a couple of tentative steps towards the man. It halted, nostrils flaring, ears flickering, trembling slightly and ready to spring away if needed. Lancelot continued peeling one of the apples he had brought with him. Another peeled one rested a few paces from him and cautiously the horse sniffed it before nudging it tentatively. As it rolled over the horse jumped backwards slightly. With a snort it approached again and then bit the apple slightly before devouring the fruit whole. Still Lancelot had not looked at the stallion. Once the apple was finished the horse stepped closer its ears moving constantly. As it drew next to the knight's side it lowered its head and nudged Lancelot's thigh. As its confidence grew it nudged harder and quickly discovered the apple Lancelot had been peeling. As the stallion ate it Lancelot moved slowly and ran his hands over the horses face. It made no attempt to withdraw and Lancelot moved to smooth his hands across its neck.

"See." Jols said with a grin. "He has a way with horses."

"Kind of like his way with woman." The doctor stated, a small smile appearing on his face.

"We need to move him; the cold will be doing more harm than good especially to his leg."

"Good luck with that." Jols commented.

"Don't think you are getting out of it. Someone needs to see to that horse."

With a scowl Jols followed the doctor. As they entered the exercise yard Lancelot looked up, the grey horse remained next to the knight although it watched them suspiciously.

"Are you trying to catch your death? As I have already suggested I could poison you which would be a much easier way to die and quicker."

Jols's mouth dropped open in shock at the casual reference to killing the knight.

"Then you would be denied the pleasure of my company as I lay dying."

"Exactly. I'd rather you did not clutter my hospital needlessly."

Lancelot laughed and pulled himself to his feet. The stallion backed up a few paces. Lancelot stretched and winced as his bones clicked.

"I told you to rest." The doctor commanded with his ever present scowl returning full force.

"Yes you did and I have spent most of the day sitting quietly."

The doctor was prevented from replying by a legionary officer bursting into the area. Lancelot rolled his eyes.

"Don't tell me you found a rat in the latrines and you've scheduled a meeting to discuss what to do?" the knight murmured sarcastically. The officer allowed a small smile to grace his features; he was quite used to Lancelot's thinly veiled insults. Some of them were indeed amusing.

"That's tomorrow." Plautius deadpanned. Lancelot's smile broadened. Plautius was one of the few Romans he could stand and often conversed with him as well as playing a few games of dice in the tavern.

"What is it?" the knight questioned turning serious.

"We have discovered two dead scouts and four others are missing."

"What?"

"At the change of watch the scouts we sent out failed to find any of those they were meant to replace at their allotted positions. In their search they found two of them with their throats cut. The other four are still missing."

"Woads?"

"Most definitely." Plautius replied.

"Shit."

"Indeed."

"What does that mean?" Jols asked nervously.

"They are planning something. Why else would you take out all the scouts?" Lancelot theorised. Plautius nodded.

"Probably not a small raid either." Suddenly a realisation popped into Lancelot's head and it was not a good one.

"What is our strength?" he asked. Plautius frowned at the question but then his face showed clearly that the very problem Lancelot had thought of had dawned on him too.

"Fifty plus seven currently on the wounded list and of course one knight."

"Not nearly enough to fully defend the fort." Plautius shook his head.

"What does Julio suggest happened?" Lancelot asked referring to the current base commander and the Roman who hated the Sarmatian knights more than anyone he had ever met.

"That they killed each other and the four opted to change sides."

"You are kidding?" Lancelot said in disbelief.

"I wish I was. I tried to tell him that the woads consider those who aid us traitors and that death would be the only outcome if they tried to defect. He just said that none of the natives should be trusted and that they were probably all collaborators."

"He never ceases to amaze me with his stupidity. What do you think?"

"That we are imminent danger. They must have been monitoring us and seen Arthur and Pontius leave."

"I agree but my opinion matters not. Any Roman here outranks me."

The quartet lapsed into silence. The full ramifications of this turn of events weighed heavily on Lancelot's mind and what bothered him more was his complete inability to do anything. As he had just told Plautius he had no authority over anyone. If Arthur was here, he was in command and Lancelot acted through him. Now with Arthur gone he could not command only obey, and that in its self was not a common occurrence.

"We are in trouble then." Plautius stated almost resigned to his fate.

"Not if I can help it. I did not live so long to go and be slaughtered in my own fort due to some stupid Roman. No offence."

Plautius snorted. "Yes right of course not."

"What are you going to do?" Jols asked and Lancelot shrugged.

"Something that Arthur undoubtedly would not approve of." Plautius replied with a grin.

OO


	8. Chapter 8

Authors notes: Thank you to all the reviewers! Welcome Beling2 I'm glad you like the story!!! A big thank you to Karina for both of your reviews. I hope you all had a happy holiday. Happy New Year!!!! Sorry for the delay on this chapter but I have been very busy!!! Anyway I hope you enjoy this!

OO

Tristan knelt on the dirt and lightly ran his fingers over the faint hoof prints that mottled the ground. The hoof prints were similar in size to his own mare and therefore probably belonged to the Romans, native ponies were much smaller. The tracks were about a day old, the cold frosty ground slowing down their rate of disintegration. There had been at least fifteen horses travelling with the party with only a few on foot. They were heading east further away from both Badon Hill and the fort they had set out from. Rising to his feet he swiftly mounted his mare and urged her to gallop to return to the main party.

As he approached he saw Arthur at the head of the party walking his horse slowly to allow the legionnaires to keep up. His face was as calm as usual but to a well trained eye Tristan could detect the strain. Working with the Romans had never run smoothly, the condensation and scorn that the Romans placed upon the knights at every opportunity had eroded any chance of their being harmony between the two groups. Of course the fact that we were taken against our wills, forced into service and then sent to this forsaken island, there was probably no chance of anything but resentment, hatred and revulsion flourishing. He for one was not in the least interested in promoting any relations.

He drew his horse to a halt next to Arthur.

"I've found traces of a mounted Roman party heading in that direction." He said indicating the direction from whence he had come.

"How long ago?"

"At least a day."

Tristan backed his horse away as Arthur turned to discuss it with the centurions. He had no interest in listening to the conversation. Instead he moved a few paces forward and raised his arm. His beautiful lady cried out and landed in a graceful flutter of her wings. With his free hand he stroked her head and she chirped leaning into his touch.

"I feel that as Lancelot is not here something should be said but I know I will never live up to his remarkable ability to insult so I won't attempt to." Gawain commented and Tristan raised an eyebrow.

"If that is true then our prompt deaths on the battlefield can be our only salvation." The scout responded.

"KNIGHTS!" Arthur bellowed and five disgruntled knights turned as one with equally irritated expressions to regard their commander. The group had moved off in the direction Tristan had indicated. Slowly they followed letting their horses drag their feet.

"If we happened to take a wrong turn and ended up back at the fort through no fault of ours would it be so bad?" Galahad wondered aloud.

"Unfortunately we have Tristan so we will never be able to convince them." Gawain answered.

"If it is for the greater good I am sure Tristan will take the fall." Bors grumpily suggested. Tristan merely moved his horse further away from Bors. Gawain and Galahad laughed heartily. Dagonet smiled, he knew Tristan was not worried about Bors, the scout had moved to make Galahad and Gawain laugh to ease the building tension.

"Uh oh I think Arthur is pissed." Galahad said slowly and the knights looked up to see Arthur glaring at them, the fact that he thought they were moving too slow plain to see on his face.

"Well I wouldn't want anyone to think the Sarmatian knights are slow." Bors grinned. All the knights returned the smiles and charged towards the Romans with a cry. Arthur just shook his head as several legionnaires leapt out of the way as the knights bore down on them.

"Yes this mission was going to be interesting." Dagonet murmured.

OO

Jols entered the stable block hoping that Lancelot was inside. Thankfully the knight was indeed there and in the process of saddling the grey stallion that he had called Demon. 'Matched his personality' Lancelot had told him with a grin. 'Both of yours' Jols responded.

"Where are you going?" Jols asked.

"A bit of exercise."

"I am not an idiot. Julio has forbidden anyone to leave the fort."

"He meant civilians."

"I don't think he makes the differentiation between the two Lancelot. You are not a Roman and therefore you are inconsequential to him. He will not bat an eyelid ordering you shot if you go against his orders."

With unconcealed fury Lancelot slammed his fist against the saddle forgetting that it was not Scimitar or any other well trained horse used to taking blows. The animal squealed and reared moving far away from the pair extremely agitated.

"Fuck it!" the knight exclaimed throwing up his hands angrily.

"We have lost two groups of sentries, an attack in imminent and we are practically defenceless. Julio is sat on his arse deciding that the best defence is to sit here and wait for out inevitable destruction."

Jols sighed. "What do you suggest?"

Lancelot looked torn well aware that anything he did would be at the least insubordination, at the worst treason with the penalty of death.

"Get everybody ready to leave at a moment's notice."

"What?" the squire stated shocked.

"You are not stupid Jols, we will not win. The best we can hope for is a distraction to try and allow most of the women and children to escape."

"What if Julio notices?"

"I highly doubt he will, one of his officers will probably tell him though. Make something up. Spring cleaning? A festival?"

Jols looked sceptical but nodded. Lancelot continued.

"Find men willing to fight and get them weapons. They will need to protect those who flee. Keep this as quiet for as long as possible but be ready to move at a moments notice. I will talk to Julio."

"You? Talk?"

"Yes talk."

"Be careful. He will not hesitate to imprison you."

"I would like to see him try."

Lancelot and Jols left the stables quickly leaving the grey stallion snorting angrily.

O

Plautius was finishing distributing the extra sentries on the walls when he saw Lancelot burst out of the stables. Quickly he hurried over to join him.

"Whatever you are about to do…don't!" the Roman said dropping into stride with Lancelot.

"I am not going to just sit here and await my death."

"As much as you hate him Julio is a competent commander." Lancelot halted.

"I did not think that even you were that stupid! He is an idiot!"

Plautius froze momentarily and Lancelot continued to march in the direction of the building. Plautius hurried after the knight determined to stop him from undoubtedly causing himself a world of trouble. Lancelot slammed open the doors and Plautius watched in small satisfaction as Julio jumped and spilled wine down his front.

"Plautius what is the meaning of this?" Julio demanded angrily fixing Lancelot with a glare that would have quelled any Roman but Lancelot refused to back down.

"Are you planning to sit here gorging yourself until a woad army bursts through the doors?" Lancelot snarled. Plautius sighed. Crap! Does Lancelot know anything of tact? Julio rose to his feet and strode over to stand in front of Lancelot. The Roman had a good few inches on Lancelot but if anything Lancelot's glare grew fiercer.

"How DARE you burst in here and talk to me like that?"

"I _dare _because I am someone who knows that if you continue doing nothing, this fort and everyone in it will fall."

"Do not seek to lecture me on matters you know nothing about."

Lancelot took a step forward himself and Plautius moved closer.

"I am a Sarmatian knight and not a fat Roman commander who thinks out of his…"

Plautius grabbed Lancelot and pulled him out of the way of Julio's retaliatory blow.

"Damn it Lancelot are you trying to get yourself imprisoned or killed." Plautius whispered harshly in an attempt to prevent Lancelot from lunging at Julio.

"GET HIM OUT OF HERE!" Julio roared. "LOCK HIM UP!"

"Sir he did not mean…" Plautius started.

"I meant everything I said. Every moment you sit here you are condemning everyone to death. You need to act now! Prepare the defences; get the women and children ready to flee."

Two guards grabbed Lancelot but the knight shrugged them off.

"LISTEN TO ME!" Lancelot cried angrily, he struggled again to reach Julio and make him understand. One of the guards struck the Sarmatian a glancing blow across the forehead. Lancelot stumbled and Plautius stood protectively over him as he steadied himself.

"HOLD" Plautius stated and the soldiers stepped back. Lancelot quickly rose up. Julio moved closer.

"You are nothing; I would take any son of a bitch Briton over the scum that are the Sarmatian knights. Your forefathers were too cowardly to die honourably instead they condemned you all to servitude. You are not even thought of as people, Romans talk of Sarmatians in the same breaths as their whores."

Plautius watched as Lancelot's fury grew but also he could detect anguish. Lancelot was totally out of his depth. He was one of the finest warriors he had ever known but he had little experience with power politics as Arthur had dealt with them. This was showing vividly and instead of letting the barbs wash over him he was taking them personally.

"And you are by far the worst Lancelot. A knight who considers himself to be equal to or better than us. I have seen Arthur try to defend you and open himself up to ridicule. I will not ruin my career and public image by listening to a knight…now remove yourself from here or I will have you imprisoned."

"On your head be it!" the knight sneered and he turned to leave. "But I am not going to go quietly and neither are any of these 'son of a bitch Britons'"

Plautius watched as Julio laughed and he shook his head.

'Again you underestimate him' he thought. 'This will be the last time you will do that'

Plautius followed Lancelot out making sure he slammed the door just as Julio was about to take another sip of wine.

OO


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Notes: - Thank you for the reviews. Enjoy!

OO

The night was still but he could feel it all the same. A disturbance in the air, the rustle of the leaves and a large number of owl calls were the only indications that all was not well. Lancelot sat staring at the distant treeline not really seeing it at all. Snow had started to fall again and the air chilled as darkness settled on the surrounding countryside. He supposed if he looked carefully enough he would be able to see the faint shadows of people moving in between the tree trunks but he decided he would rather ignore the inevitable at least for the moment. His swords lay in his lap; he had sharpened them and polished them until they shined as if new.

He was also well aware that Plautius had climbed the steps to the battlements and was currently stood a few paces behind him.

'What do you think I am going to do jump off?' he thought. 'Wouldn't want to give anyone the satisfaction'

The Roman hadn't spoke and was obviously waiting for Lancelot to break the silence first. It was many minutes before the knight spoke and even then it was only three syllables.

"Go away." Plautius didn't move. After the silence dragged for a few minutes longer the knight again spoke.

"Can I help you with something?" he snapped.

"You shouldn't antagonise him. He is not Arthur he will make life more difficult for you."

"He could try! Are you sure you should be seen talking to a Sarmatian Knight?" The knight sighed as he rose to his feet, sheathing his weapons as he did so.

"The fact that I attempted to defend you has already got me in enough trouble." Plautius shrugged with a smile.

"You should not have bothered." Lancelot muttered as he brushed past him. Plautius followed and they clattered down the stairs.

"What is your problem?" the Roman demanded grabbing hold of Lancelot's arm, pulling him round to face him.

"Let go of me." Lancelot snarled. Looking around quickly Plautius stepped closer.

"Julio is a loose tongued fool and we both know it. Why are these words having such an effect? He has said a lot worse."

"You think I don't bloody know that. I am well aware of his opinions regarding myself."

"Then what is the problem?"

Lancelot's shoulders dropped and he was about to respond when a sentry came barrelling down the stairs, ploughing into the pair of them. Lancelot stumbled and Plautius grabbed him to prevent him falling.

"What is the hurry?" Plautius asked dreading the answer.

"Someone has placed crosses in the fields and has set them alight. They just appeared and I can see no one but I know they are out there…waiting." The sentry hurried away to report to Julio. The two quickly returned to the battlements watching the burning crosses. Lancelot sighed heavily and he turned as he heard Jols hurry up the steps.

"Are they ready?" he asked the squire.

"Almost." Jols responded "Although many want to fight here."

"That could still be an option if they don't get a move on. Make sure Vanora and every one of Bors' bastards are among the first out. If anyone of them gets a scratch he will have my head."

"Definitely."

"Excuse me what are you two talking about?" Plautius demanded. "Please tell me you haven't done something that is going to get you both in serious trouble."

Lancelot looked at him with an expression of innocence and then a devilish grin.

"Fine I won't tell you."

"Now I know why Arthur always looks on the verge of a heart attack when your name is brought up in any discussion about any incident within the fort."

"I like to keep him on his toes."

A commotion near the fort headquarters caught the trio's attention. Julio emerged and seemed to be issuing frantic orders.

"Well I was almost correct, the Woads haven't yet burst inside but I imagine they will attack at dawn. Get Arthur's horse saddled and ready."

"Arthur's?" Plautius questioned but Jols nodded in agreement and hurried to the stables.

"Scimitar is injured. Demon is not trained. I am going to need a horse."

"And what do you need a horse for?"

"Well I don't think a donkey will be up for it…Oh by the gods he is coming over." Lancelot smirked and adopted his usual relaxed pose.

"Plautius there is a briefing in five minutes. I want you there!"

"Am I invited?" Lancelot asked. Julio regarded the knight as if he was a disgusting mass that he had just scrapped off his shoe.

"If you set foot inside I will have you placed in the cells, bound and gagged so I won't have to listen to you again."

"I will take that as a no then. Well I'll leave Roman business to the Romans…I need to find some weapons and something that will make a big bang preferably with lots of fire!"

Plautius coughed to cover a laugh as he saw Julio's face turn thundery. As soon as the knight had started walking away Julio turned his rage to Plautius.

"Control him or there will be a problem and I cannot guarantee his safety."

'Of course not. You will be the one causing the problem.' Plautius thought angrily.

"I will try sir, but if I may be so bold sir we could use him. He is a Sarmatian knight who by all accounts is an excellent fighter."

"He may well be but he is barely controllable, even Arthur has trouble with him. He is more likely to kill someone on our side."

Plautius scowled. "Sir I am sure he can differentiate between the two."

Julio stepped closer. "I know for some reason you have formed a friendship with that knight but if you know what is good for you end it. We are Romans and we do not befriend below us. He is a slave of Rome."

Julio turned. "Briefing now." Plautius had no choice but to follow.

O

"What do you mean the tracks have disappeared?" Arthur whispered harshly.

"Well exactly as it sounds." Galahad replied. Arthur glared at him.

"Mounted patrols don't just vanish! So we have been tricked?"

"It would appear so." Tristan replied with a shrug.

"You are the best tracker we have. How could you have fallen for this?"

"Perhaps because he has been working non stop ever since we left the fort!" Bors snapped.

"Its not the first time we've all had to stretch ourselves." Arthur replied angrily.

"Then we've had a pressing reason, not just finding some bloody lost Roman cavalry who have probably been rotting for some time." The knight continued.

"This is not a democracy. You do as you are told whether you agree with me or not. What in gods name has come over you?"

"You wouldn't understand."

Arthur sighed. "Fine. I won't push it but now is not the time to talk over this. When we get back to the wall we are going to have a long conversation and for the rest of this mission you are going to address me as your commander. I do not want to repeat myself." Arthur's tone booked no arguments.

"Yes sir!" Bors snapped sarcastically.

"Now Tristan suggestions?" The knight considered his reply carefully.

"They are taunting us. I do not believe this is a simple matter of Romans siding with Woads. These tracks have been planted. This ground here has been disturbed to remove all trace of their movement. They probably doubled back."

"Doubled back where? For what purpose?" Gawain asked.

"To get us lost and pick us off one by one." Galahad responded morbidly.

"Yes but we are hardly in unknown territory. Most of this is familiar to us." Gawain replied.

"So they are just leading us on a merry dance?" Bors questioned angrily.

"It would seem so." Tristan responded.

"Where is the nearest Woad village?" Arthur asked.

"About five miles back towards Baden Hill."

"Tristan I want you to head there and monitor them, see if there is anything amiss in their actions. Meet back up with us as soon as you have found anything. If not I want you back within two days."

Tristan nodded and remounted his mare before speeding off.

"That again leaves us with nothing." Gawain said softly. "I agree with Tristan." He added. "Something is not right here."

"A Roman cavalry unit will not know anything about the positioning of any large number of troops on the wall nor will it be of any particular use in combat given how small in number they are. Why go to all this trouble?" Dagonet asked.

"I don't know. As Bors said this could have a simple explanation and they could have been dead all this time."

"I hate mysteries." Galahad groused. Gawain nodded in agreement. Mysteries never had good outcomes.

OO


	10. Chapter 10

Authors notes: - Thank you for all the reviews. I have just finished my last exam and I am now happily back online after my weeks self – imposed ban! Rejoice! Hope you enjoy!

OO

Lancelot stood in the centre of his small room clad only in his trousers and a black shirt clumsily attempting to secure the bandages on his sword wound tighter. Blood had soaked through the previous ones and instead of going to the doctor he had replaced them himself. His leg throbbed but he could walk on it and that was all that counted.

Darkness had heralded the arrival of a shadowed army. They moved no further than the tree lone and issued mournful cries obviously with the intent to scare the occupants of the fort. If Lancelot cared to listen to it and was prone to fancy thoughts he might refer to it as beautiful but he wasn't and to his non musical ears it sounded like strangled cats, more annoying than beautiful. Drums had started up soon after and succeeded in causing panic, the Romans adding to the tense atmosphere by screaming abuse at the terrified Britons who had attempted to leave. Lancelot himself had struck a Roman that had hit Vanora as she was attempting to gather her children. The Roman had returned the blow reopening Lancelot's chest wound. Fortunately or unfortunately they had been split up and Julio said if he lived he would be brought up on charges. Lancelot had scoffed in his face which probably wasn't a good idea. Arthur was going to kill him!

With a sigh he moved across to the bed where he had placed all his armour. He was going to battle in full heavy armour, a fierce Sarmatian knight. In slow, precise movements he slowly put his armour on. Securing buckles and tightening straps in a well versed pattern soothed his mind. Soon he would be in his element, the one that he thrived in and was any good at it.

A knock on the door announced the presence of Jols.

"They have us totally surrounded. There is no way to get anyone out; Julio has ordered civilians into the cellars. Hopefully they will have a chance to get out after the initial attack."

"Do you really think that they will be merciful Jols?" Lancelot questioned and the squire had no reply.

"Palatine is ready." Jols continued. "The Romans have gathered in the courtyard, Julio will not let any of the Britons fight."

"Good!" Lancelot exclaimed. "They will need to be the last line of defence."

Jols faced cracked in anguish. "This is suicide." He snapped angrily, furious at the fates for taking this path. Lancelot turned to face him with his usual calm arrogance expressed upon his face.

"You're implying that I am going to lose?"

"Lancelot!" Jols sighed tired of the knight's bravado.

"You are just one man Lancelot. A mortal man and you can be killed."

"I haven't found anyone who could do it yet."

"By the gods Lancelot…" Jols started but halted as soon as the knight grabbed his arm. The intensity of Lancelot's gaze held him transfixed.

"This is not suicide Jols. I have no choice. We either die in here like cowards with no control over our fates or we ride out to meet death and go down fighting. I was always going to die in battle. I only wish it was with my fellow knights and not the bloody Romans. I do not fear death. Death is freedom."

"We should wait. Arthur will be returning soon." The squire almost pleaded.

"You are no fool. Arthur will not return for days and the woads will not wait. They anticipated this. Hopefully Arthur will arrive to save Vanora and everyone else."

Straightening himself Lancelot winced and he felt warm blood begin to run down his skin. Jols noticed but decided to keep quiet. There was nothing he could do anyway.

"Well let's go Jols an army waits for no man."

They strode from the room towards the courtyard. As the knight stepped outside he noticed that it was strangely quiet. The snow was laying creating drifts against the buildings, the flakes floating lazily through the air. By the gate stood the pathetically pitiful detachment of Roman soldiers, he could almost laugh. They had even pressed the wounded into service. Plautius and Julio were the only two going to be on horseback. Plautius was mounted already but Julio was no where to be seen.

Palatine was prancing on the spot snorting excitedly and chomping on the bit. Billows of warm breath rose with every snort. As he approached the almost white stallion he could feel many eyes upon him. A few of the older occupants of the fort were gathered; many had tears in their eyes, as they knew their fates. He sighted Vanora who came to his side. She handed him a small wooden charm.

"For luck and protection. I don't want to have to deal with Bors in a mood." She smiled softly. Lancelot pocketed the charm. In return he handed her a dagger.

"I have many weapons one less is of little consequence." He replied as she shook her head in denial and tried to hand it back to him.

"The first chance you get run. Jols you go with her."

"No!" Jols said shocked. "I will go with you."

"As you said its death. Go with Vanora. If anything happens to them I will have your head as Bors will have mine. Do not think that death will stop me. I have a reputation for being stubborn."

"Thank you." Vanora said and she secured the knife in the tie of her skirt.

"There is always a chance that they will not kill you all. Don't fight, follow Arthur's trail to the nearest fort. Tell them what happened here. You should be safe."

Lancelot handled his helmet to Jols as he mounted not as graceful as usual due to both the weight of the armour and his injuries. He stifled a cry by biting his lip. Jols handed him his helmet and Lancelot secured it in place. Gathering the reins he nudged Palatine forward before turning him in a circle. The pair looked impressive clad in their battle armour.

"Good luck." Jols whispered knowing that Lancelot believed a man to make his own luck.

"I want some warm cider ready when I get back." Lancelot joked with a big smile before trotting Palatine over to take his place next to Plautius. Julio glared at him as the Roman was assisted into the saddle, the knight just smiled.

"Let's go." Jols said pulling Vanora away uttering a prayer.

O

The gates of the fort groaned open slowly revealing the place of battle. The burning crosses cast an eerie glow with the smoke distorting the shadowed figures making them appear more a mirage than fact. As soon as the gates opened the haunting cries and drums halted. The silence was worse increasing the tension until Lancelot's body tingled in anticipation. Lancelot viewed the opening of the doors as if the gates of Arthur's hell had opened themselves. He felt fear, it was only slight but it was there. He knew the likely outcome was his death and he had not yet evolved into an emotional monster that it didn't scare him slightly.

He often had dreams of his death, a glorious passing protecting his homeland or even a battle where he died in an attempt to save a fellow knight. He did not want to die alone among people that hated him in a slaughter that could hardly be called a battle. He didn't want his body to rot, another Sarmatian corpse to add to the many that had fallen before. Another statistic with no one to mourn.

"Try at least to look vaguely confident." Plautius spoke interrupting his morbid thoughts. Lancelot snorted.

"That's the first time anyone has ever said that to me."

"Glad I can be the first."

"I'm happy for you. Although tell anyone about it and I will kill you." The knight spoke seriously.

"Noted." Plautius said with a twinkle in his eye. "Although I too am hard pressed to find anything to be confident about."

"Good for a moment I thought you had gone mad. For crying out loud one of the men is missing an arm, his sword arm! I swear the one on the end probably still thinks he can fly!"

"Maybe we can cause them to fall over laughing." The Roman suggested.

"Woads don't have a sense of humour." Lancelot growled. With a clank the gates signalled that they had opened fully.

"Well woads won't kill themselves." The knight stated and he drew his heavy sword resting it for the moment across his lap, the movement causing him immense pain. Julio moved his horse forward and then turned it back to face the soldiers.

"We are Roman soldiers. We are the greatest soldiers ever known and we will TRIUMPH! If today we are called to give our lives to propel the empire forward to greater glory do so with pride and your head held high. For the empire will continue to flourish and your sacrifice will not be in vain or forgotten. LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR! LONG LIVE ROME!" Julio cried.

The soldiers echoed his final words while Lancelot rolled his eyes.

Slowly the small group of soldiers moved forward. Lancelot quickly glanced backwards flashing a cocky grin at Jols who saluted him back just before the squire disappeared with Vanora. As soon as he turned back and passed under the gate arch his grin faded and he shivered. As the last soldier passed the gate it shut with an air of finality. Lancelot secured his reins in his left hand and gripped his sword hard with his right. The pitiful company of soldiers formed ranks and waited for the enemy to make its move.

OO


	11. Chapter 11

Authors notes: Thank you to all my lovely reviewers!

OO

For what seemed like an eternity no one moved. Palatine shifted nervously picking up the tension, the young stallion was still only a novice and Lancelot wished that Scimitar was fit and healthy.

"Look!" Plautius said rather unnecessarily as a group of warriors detached themselves from the main army and stepped closer to them.

"What do you suppose they want?" Julio asked.

"Probably checking their eyes and wondering where the rest of the army is." Plautius replied.

"Doubtful." Lancelot commented. "They planned this. It's a challenge, commander to commander."

Julio's face whitened. "I don't think so."

"It's a matter of honour. You don't do it and they will show us no mercy."

"What kind of mercy can we expect off savages?" Julio spat.

"You have no idea." Lancelot replied.

"If you are so concerned feel free to die first."

"Fine beats having to watch our pathetic slaughter." Lancelot nudged Palatine forward and the horse responded eagerly.

Trotting was the most uncomfortable movement ever Lancelot decided as each bounce of the gait sent pain travelling through his body. As he approached he saw that the army were painted black and were wearing masks. Woads are getting stranger everyday!

Half way to them Lancelot drew Palatine to a halt. The stallion reared up striking out his front hooves endearing him to Lancelot. Once of the ground Palatine stood still only twitching his muscles in anticipation. One of the woads moved forward presumably the leader for his mask was more elaborate. Maybe they were druids he thought. Ah well he was going to die who cared who killed him. The man saluted him with a sword and Lancelot returned the gesture. He then returned to his army. Lancelot frowned in confusion and then shrugged. He turned Palatine and rejoined the Romans.

"Why didn't you say that was all he wanted?" Julio spat angrily embarrassed at his actions and the fact that he had been upstaged.

"Because normally he would have challenged me to a duel."

"Then why didn't he?"

"I don't know why don't you ask him?" Lancelot sneered at his wits end. Before Julio could blurt out another insult the woads screamed and charged. Lancelot turned Palatine sharply and raised his sword. The Roman infantry looked panicked and for a second Lancelot thought they would run.

"Stand firm. You hold together you have a chance. You run and you die." He commanded. Their faces became stern and they formed stronger lines, raised their shields and weapons. It took only a few seconds for the first lines to hit.

O

Tristan dismounted his mare about two miles from the woad encampment, and ushered her off. She would return when needed. Disappearing into the trees Tristan crept towards the camp. He easily bypassed the two sentries who were staring in another direction. The camp was a simple one, thatched huts and a few animal pens. With a quick glance he could tell that most of the population were within the camp and with a practised eye he noted an immediate problem. Around the outskirts a number of protection charms had been erected. They were spooked by something and Tristan didn't believe in coincidences.

Continuing on his quest he studied the horses for any signs of Roman animals, there were none. There were no indications of any occupants not of woad origin. Whatever had happened to the Roman cavalry these people had nothing to do with it.

Slipping back into the shadows Tristan was about to leave when he heard a cry. Quickly retracing his steps he saw a sentry run into camp. The man ran up to the largest and therefore the leader's hut frantically beckoning back the way he had come.

Tristan hurried in the direction that the scout had charged from. He half expected to see a massive army. There was nothing until he checked the sky. Smoke! Darkness was just setting and the sky was cloudy with snow laden clouds but smoke was easy to recognise to the well trained eye. His mind sprang into action in an attempt to work out what could possibly be burning and he came to a horrible conclusion. It was in the direction of the wall. Apart from the forts there was no woad encampment for miles.

It was a painful realisation when it hit him. All this had been an elaborate plan to remove the main force from Baden Hill and leave it vulnerable to attack. Arthur was going to be beside himself. Lancelot! He suddenly thought. Arthur was not going to be at all happy and Tristan hated to be the bearer of news that would devastate the man. Swiftly he retraced his steps and as soon as he felt he had allowed a sufficient distance from the sentries he whistled for his horse. She returned promptly and he quickly mounted. With a stroke of her withers he leant forward whispering in her elegantly pointed ear.

"You will have to run fast my friend." The loyal mare took off moving at a flat out gallop. Only a mare as well trained as Skye was could move at such a speed through the trees. Still it would take him the best part of the night to rejoin Arthur and by then he knew that it would not be quick enough.

O

Palatine squealed as a woad hacked at the stallions legs. Lancelot saw the blow coming and he yanked hard on the reins trying to stop the animal's forward momentum but it was too late and the horse crashed to its knees. Luckily for Lancelot he fell forward with the horse managing to avoid having his head removed from his shoulders by an opportunistic woad. Palatine attempted to regain his feet but the blow had severely lamed the horse and it was unable to support itself. The stallion floundered and rolled to the side. Unlike a few days prior Lancelot was able to scramble off easily but had to immediately drop and roll himself swinging out one of his blades as he did so slashing the heels of a woad. The man fell screaming but Lancelot was already back on his feet twirling the two blades in his hands while performing a deadly ballet of turns and dodges. He had dropped his large heavy sword as Palatine had been brought down and now resorted to his more familiar and lighter twin blades.

Quickly in a seconds breathing space he glanced around and he could see no one. Either he had been driven away from the Romans or the formation had broken and now the soldiers were engaged in a variety of individual confrontations no doubt being slaughtered. Then dimly over the heated cries of the battle he could hear Julio bellowing orders. Maybe all was not lost yet. A slash across his upper arm refocused his attention and he thrust out his weapons to the side feeling them sink into an unguarded torso. Pulling them out he side stepped to avoid a lunge from the other direction before whirling around in a circle and driving his swords home.

The woads kept coming like a swarm and as soon as he managed to kill one two took their place. A jarring blow to his right hand sent his sword spinning to the ground where it was trodden on by a large number of booted feet. With a swift curse he propelled himself forward trying to retrieve the wayward weapon. Luck wasn't with him and one of the woads managed to send him sprawling with a hard shove.

The woads sensing victory over the knight descended on him like a pack of wolves. Someone stamped on his left hand forcing the release of his remaining sword. With a cry of pain he grabbed one of his small daggers and plunged it into the calf of his attacker. The man joined Lancelot on the ground and the knight swiftly pulled the man to cover his prone body and instantly several sword thrusts that were meant for him plunged into the body. The man shrieked and the woads stepped back startled. Lancelot took full advantage and shoved the man off himself before scrambling to his feet dagger in hand. Lancelot challenged them on who would face him next. No one stepped forward; instead a circle was formed around him. Breathing heavily Lancelot raised his head, lowered his knife and stood tall, or as tall as he could in the pain he was in. He was being saved but he would not go quietly. Around him the sounds of battle were dimming, as he predicted it had been brief. Suddenly he heard a cry.

"RETREAT!" It was Julio. Fool! Lancelot thought and he turned to face the fort. The woads withdrew allowing Julio to retreat. Lancelot spied Plautius backing more cautiously away with two legionaries grouped together guarding the retreat. They were the only survivors.

"OPEN THE GATES!" At the last moment through a sea of bodies Lancelot caught Plautius's eye. Then the gates closed. The knight frowned; Julio had obviously planned this and had left the guards inside to open the gates.

"Do not worry for they shall all die." A heavily accented voice spoke up. The woads parted to reveal the elaborately masked man who had presented the challenge to Lancelot earlier. As if the words were the sign flaming arrows sailed over their heads impacting behind the fortified walls. Screams announced that they had hit their targets and the fort began to burn.

"Pick up your swords." The woad commanded. Lancelot bristled at the tone but did so none the less. He would destroy this mans overconfidence. Sarmatian knights were not to be underestimated.

"You want me to fight you?" Lancelot questioned as he arrogantly twirled his swords.

"I am an old man Lancelot of Sarmatia. I will not fight you. My son will."

Lancelot frowned at the man's words. He knew his name and that was strange enough although he supposed that anyone could find it out of they wanted to. They were not exactly covert. The circle again parted and a huge bulk of a man, much larger than even Bors, stepped forward.

'Typical! How come no evil leader ever had a dwarf as a son.' The knight though ruefully.

OO


	12. Chapter 12

Authors notes: Thank you for all the reviews. Welcome to my new reviewers and greetings to the old! (Not literally)-) Thanks especially to Beling! Anyways Enjoy!

OO

"Something is not right here." Gawain pointed out what the others thought was bloody obvious. Galahad rolled his eyes and snorted.

"Really and what gave you that impression? Could it be that the object of our search has just appeared in front of us out of thin air?"

"Sarcasm does not become you brat! Leave it to the professionals." Gawain replied whacking Galahad across the back of the head. The young knight glared and moved his horse out of reach. He then turned his attention back to the scene in front of him.

They had been riding along a well used trail with really no idea where to go as the new tracks they had been following had disappeared. Arthur's mood had been positively foul and it was not helped by the other Romans who had become increasingly bored and were passing the time by thinking up new variations of insults. Most of them the knights brushed off while returning equally biting comments until Arthur had silenced them. Unfortunately a particularly crude comment about Lancelot by one of the legionaries had had Arthur off his horse with Excalibur held to the man's throat. Pontius had quickly stepped forward putting the man on report. Since then there had been a tense silence. Then when Galahad had thought he would throw himself off his horse in an attempt to kill himself to end it all everyone had suddenly halted. On the ridge above them stood four horsemen easily recognisable as Roman cavalry.

"Identify yourselves!" Licinius cried before Arthur could open his mouth. There was no reply. The four horsemen continued to stand still.

Arthur nudged his horse forward and trotted up the path. The knights quickly followed. Halfway up Arthur drew to a halt. He did not like this situation. Something was wrong! They should have identified themselves quickly as was standard in enemy territory.

"Identify yourselves!" he demanded. Still no response.

"Arthur." Dagonet whispered. "We are not alone."

With a glance into the trees he saw Dagonet was correct.

"Tell Pontius but do so casually."

Dagonet nodded and turned his horse slowly. In a slow trot he retraced their steps down the path. Pontius looked up at his approach.

"They are acting as a distraction while we are surrounded."

Pontius nodded and whispered a few orders to his second in command. As discretely as possible the orders passed along the lines and there was a subtle shift from nonchalance to readiness. Dagonet slowly turned his horse and leaned forward assuming an almost relaxed pose, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Arthur knew that the four cavalry officers were a decoy but something still unsettled him. If they had sided with the woads why were they just stood there? Why were they silent when most Romans would take every opportunity to gloat? Inching his stallion forward his confusion increased as their faces became clearer. The four men were terrified, their young faces were pale and drawn but their eyes divulged the almost all consuming fear. He watched as their eyes kept darting to the trees and one of the men was swallowing nervously as if he wished to speak but was frightened of the consequences.

"What now?" Gawain asked quietly. Obviously the horsemen weren't going to move to greet them and it would be foolish to move any closer considering the predicament they had now found themselves in. Before Arthur could admit he didn't really have an idea several things happened at once.

The young cavalry officer who had wanted to speak suddenly found the courage and with a cry he launched his horse forward.

"Run!" he cried. "It's a tr…" An arrow sailed out of the trees and the soldier fell from his horse dead. Arthur drew his sword as did the other knights and legionaries. The other three horsemen were swiftly brought down by additional arrows and the woads suddenly jumped out of the trees launching their attack.

The Romans swiftly braced themselves forming a heavily defended square. The knights quickly drew alongside each other and brought their weapons to bear. With their own individual war cries they charged down the slope to rejoin Dagonet and the Romans. Bodies crumbled before them trampled by the horses' hooves. Fury at being deceived fired Arthur's actions and he fought hard, he was brutal as were the others.

Despite the element of surprise and their superior numbers the woads were no match for the well trained, disciplined Romans and knights. Anyway Arthur mused bitterly they had served to outwit them; this little victory would fuel their fires for many months to come. They had been traipsing about the countryside for days like bumbling fools! When they got back to Baden Hill Lancelot was going to have a field day at the Romans and their expense!

With a last thrust of his sword he shoved one of the final attackers to the ground. The woads realising the likelihood of imminent slaughter quickly disappeared back into the trees. Glancing around the group he saw that there were few casualties. A couple of legionaries were dead and there were a few minor wounds but nothing serious. To his relief all the knights were standing and only Gawain had a gash on his forehead. It was bleeding freely but all head wounds were prone to this.

"Arthur!" Pontius cried. Arthur turned to see the centurion knelt beside one of the cavalry officers.

"He is still alive."

Arthur swiftly dismounted and handed his reins to Bors who was watching Galahad attempt to see Gawain's wound but was not being met with much enthusiasm. The Roman swiftly knelt beside Pontius. The cavalry officer was mortally wounded and a trickle of blood trailed down his chin.

"Tell him what you told me." Pontius said softly as he smoothed the hair away from the young soldier's forehead trying to offer some semblance of peace to the dying youth.

"It…it…was a trap." He gasped

"We know." Arthur answered.

"No" the man protested vigorously choking and wincing at the sudden movement.

"What? No what?" Arthur said with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"We were ambushed…all but…but four of us died." The man whispered as he desperately sucked in air. "They wanted to draw you out."

"Draw us out? From where?" Pontius questioned but the man led still having used the last of his energy to tell that much.

"Arthur?" Pontius demanded as he watched the Roman knight slowly rise to his feet. His eyes closed in despair.

"ARTHUR! TRISTAN!" he heard Galahad yell. The man turned to face his scout who galloped straight up to him slamming to a halt inches away. Tristan's mare was breathing heavily and sweat ran down her flanks. The scout had ridden hard and Arthur feared his words.

"Smoke." The scout said winded. "From the direction of Baden Hill."

With unconcealed fury and anguish Arthur cried out loudly before managing to bring himself under control. Opening his eyes he saw everyone staring at him, all but his knights were shocked having never seen him loose his cool before. The knights were more concerned with the reason and their faces were grave.

"Gather our bodies we are moving out." Bors brought Arthur's horse forward and he mounted quickly.

"What is the meaning of this?" Licinius demanded angrily.

"This has all been an elaborate deception. The woads captured the cavalry unit, kept them alive and used their arrows. They wanted us to send out an expedition to find them, to draw us out and away from the fort. Tristan has reported that there is smoke from the direction of Baden Hill. We have been deceived! We need to return quickly but I fear their plan has worked exactly the way they intended, for if the fort is already burning we will be much too late."

As the words sunk in the knights became grim and they quickly formed up behind Arthur. Tristan turned his tired mare and urged her forward again intending to scout ahead. They moved as fast as they could but as Arthur said it would not be fast enough and their minds were filled with images of what they would find when they arrived. Arthur's one thought was of Lancelot! He prayed for his safety but if he knew his friend he would be right in the thick of things!

'Don't do anything foolish my friend!' he prayed. 'Just live'

OO


	13. Chapter 13

Author's notes: Sorry for the delay but work is piling up and trying to decide my next step after university is awfully hard. Whatever I think will be interesting tends to have no jobs in it! Anyway I hope you like this and please leave feedback as I am beginning to drown in essays and any nice words will be so appreciated.

OO

Lancelot's head snapped to the side with the viciousness of the blow. He staggered and a warm metallic taste filled his mouth. Spitting out the blood he cried out as another blow landed propelling him backwards. He hit the ground hard knocking the wind out of him. For a few seconds he could do nothing but lay still as his chest heaved desperate for some air. The fight had been horrendously one sided as every one of his thrusts was met with equal ferocity by his opponent.

Blood loss from his chest wound plus the others he had subsequently acquired had weakened him so that every time he raised his swords they shook, the trembling of his limbs indicating his rapidly diminishing strength.

A couple of blows to the head had left it in agonised pain and he could see clearly only when he squinted, probably not a good sign in any circumstances. His leg kept giving way but each time he hauled himself defiantly to his feet.

Raising his eyes he saw his opponent stood in front of him, a malicious grin marking his features. Lancelot sucked in a deep breath and dove forward again putting together a routine of moves that would have made any master of the sword envious, well he tried but he could barely pull off a turn. Each block to counter a sword blow sent waves down his arms forcing him to grit his teeth in both frustration and agony. Within seconds he was on the ground again cursing at his weakness he again crawled to his feet. He would not die on his knees!

"Keen for punishment knight!" the man sneered. In response Lancelot raised his swords.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" A voice commanded. The leader stepped forward and his son stepped backwards.

"We want him alive! As a messenger."

"I am not a bloody messenger boy! Leave a note!" the knight snarled angrily.

Someone knocked him to his knees and held him them there with a vice like grasp on his shoulders. Even if he wanted to, and at the moment he didn't, he would have been unable to get to his feet. He felt so weak, so light headed. He could not fight anymore and that realisation was devastating. They had defeated him, it had not been glorious or brave, his body had faltered, and it had failed him. He was not a Sarmatian knight anymore he was just a bloodied, exhausted man. He was nothing better that his forefathers.

"It is not verbal boy." The leader laughed and the others took it up. He felt hands grabbing him, forcing him onto his stomach; the swords were pulled from his hands. Cold snow and mud pressed into his face, filling his nostrils and mouth with the bitter freezing taste. Words were whispered in his ears, mocking and derogatory. They unbuckled his armour flinging it away carelessly. Suddenly an agonising sharp pain across his back made him yelp.

"I want the Romans to see what happens to any of their number we find. No mercy until they leave these lands."

The lash continued marking his back but he made no further sound, he couldn't stop it but he wasn't going to give them the pleasure of knowing how much it hurt.

"This brave act will fail. We've only just started."

"You've made a mistake." Lancelot snapped in between blows. "I'm Sarmatian, the Romans like you more than they do us."

Lancelot was pulled roughly back to his knees and his vision swam alarmingly. He swallowed hard trying to stall the nausea.

"I care not who you are boy." The man said hitting him hard across the face. For a brief moment he blacked out but was brutally dragged back to the present with another blow.

"Don't pass out on me now boy. You'll miss the best part. Your defeat!"

Lancelot was hauled to his feet and he bit his lip hard to keep silent. They dragged him towards the fort and he noted the fort gates had been opened. So they had been betrayed! Arthur was going to love that!

The fort was well a blaze, the horses had obviously been moved before the fire started and were running around in a state of panic. The woads were turning the fort inside out in an attempt to find the inhabitants or any 'booty'. The leader was furious at the deserted state of the fort.

"Where are they?" he demanded grabbing Lancelot's chin tightly and bringing his face to stare straight at him.

"Who?" he asked innocently.

"Those who live here? The guards?"

"A field trip to study the mating habits of woads I think? Should be back the day after tomorrow."

An incensed cry of rage was the response to Lancelot's answer.

"You have one last chance. Where are the inhabitants of this fort?"

"With your wife?"

Realisation that that wasn't the best thing he could have said in this situation was readily apparent when the man descended on him with a crazed blood lust. My bloody big mouth!

Lancelot found himself on his raw back and he couldn't hold back his scream of pain.

"Seen as you like the sound of your own voice lets put it to some use." The man sneered. He produced a corked pot and knelt next to the struggling knight. Lancelot had an inkling of what was in it and he thrashed with his remaining strength.

"So you think you can deal with pain? Do you know what this is?"

"Ale?" the knight questioned. Arthur would have cut out his tongue by now in an attempt to stop his sarcasm he thought as the man's hands began to shake in fury. The expected blow split his lip and blood ran freely down his chin.

"I was going to give you one more chance to tell me where they are hidden but I'd rather hear you scream."

"I could say the same for you but I'd rather you leave. I'll give you one last chance instead." Lancelot said allowing his natural bravado to take over. The man laughed heartily. He then indicated that his men were to hold him tighter. The man uncorked the bottle and grabbed Lancelot's chin forcing his mouth open.

The knight choked and attempted to spit out the foul black liquid. His head was swiftly immobilised and someone pinched his nose. Eventually he swallowed and it burned down his throat. Immediately he was released and he curled on his side gasping for breath.

"You are going to die in agony and it is going to take days."

The whip crashed down on his back and he screamed. It was as if he was being beaten by twenty whips simultaneously. As the beating continued he began to sob, tears of pain running down his cheeks.

"Are you going to beg now brave knight?"

"I will not beg!" Lancelot spat out and darkness quickly enveloped him.

"He is barely conscious." One of the woads reported. While the beating had continued a few of those who had been sacking the fort appeared at their leader's side.

"They must have fled my lord we have found only a few and they told us so before we killed them."

"RAISE IT TO THE GROUND!" the men hurried off. The leader withdrew a knife and knelt next to Lancelot. With quick strokes he marked the symbol of a slave on the knight's wrist. The knife was coated with a toxin that would prevent the wound from healing. It would be a permanent reminder of his defeat for the remainder of the knight's days.

"Attach him to the gate as a warning. Then gather our forces and return to the woods. We will return and this time we will not be denied. Every invader and traitor will be exterminated."

As the knight was lifted up the leader whispered into the Lancelot's ear knowing the knight could hear him.

"We shall meet again and then I will see you beg."

OO


	14. Chapter 14

Authors notes: Thank you to my lovely reviews from Maeghan, babymeeko, ellelovemax, Beling, mollziki, jemiul and irishfire! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

OO

The atmosphere in the cold, damp cellars was unbearably tense and bordering on panic. The men were shifting nervously fingering weapons waiting for what they considered their imminent discovery. The women were quiet although there was soft sobbing. They were used to danger but still there was barely concealed fear. The children were silent, even the babies, as if they knew the slightest sound would give them away.

Jols sat next to Vanora and her brood. Ever since he had sat down he had felt increasing guilt, guilt that he should be out fighting and not sat in here waiting for the attack to be over. Taking a deep breath he came to a decision.

"I am going out there!" he whispered to Vanora. A look of fright passed across her features.

"No Jols you will be killed!"

"I can't let him fight alone." He whispered in anguish.

"Lancelot told you to remain here…You cannot help them."

"No but I can keep the Woads from discovering us. Vanora I need to do something. I am sorry."

Without waiting for a response the squire scrambled to his feet, ignored the shocked glances and crept as stealthily as he could out of the cellar. The sounds of battle assaulted his ears. He darted up to the battlements and peered over the top. It was a slaughter. The battle group fell apart breaking into little groups which were picked off easily.

He looked for Lancelot and saw that Palatine was thrashing around on the ground. The knight was not nearby and after quick searching he found him fighting a one on one combat with a monster of a man.

As he watched the fight Jols realised that his friend was going to lose. His previous wounds were causing the knight to react and fight slower. His opponent was good, not good enough to defeat Lancelot on a normal day, but this was not a normal day and the knight was beaten. Just as Jols thought the killing blow was going to be delivered the fight was stopped by a third man. Jols soon realised that Lancelot was being kept alive for a purpose, not a pleasant one either.

A hail of flaming arrows caught his attention; he dashed down from the battlements and ran to the stables. Hopefully before the flames took hold he could get the animals out before they were too scared to save themselves. Luckily they followed Demon's lead and charged out. They all fled except Scimitar who stopped by Jols and nudged him.

"I am sorry." The squire said patting the stallion before ushering the horse out.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" an angry voice demanded. Jols quickly left the stables to see that the gates had been opened and Julio, Plautius and a couple of legionaries had staggered back in.

"Where is Lancelot?" the squire demanded.

"Dead!"

"He is not dead." Plautius snapped. "He is still out there. We need to open the gates and let him in."

"To open the gates would be suicide you idiot." Julio snarled.

"So what is the plan now?" Plautius said. "The fort is ablaze and we are now trapped inside."

"You are a Roman soldier act like one!" Julio roared. Then he let out a cry of pain. An arrow had been driven deep into his shoulder. Plautius caught him and they both fell to the ground.

'This was all going to hell!'

"There is no doctor." Jols said as he helped drag the centurion out of the courtyard.

"Where's the hospital doctor?" Plautius asked.

"I don't know. WHAT?..." Jols dropped Julio who groaned in response. Plautius turned to see the gates being cracked open. Immediately woads poured in.

"Shit!" Jols exclaimed. He quickly whispered in Julio's ear.

"Play dead!" He then grabbed Plautius and indicated the other two legionaries should follow him. Hoping that they had moved unseen he led them into one of the narrow passages within the walls.

"Whatever happens we need to keep them away from the south cellar. It will be a slaughter if they are discovered."

O

Bors nudged his horse into trot and then quickly slowed it down to walk. The horse sensing the nervous tension began to prance, shifting its head nervously.

"This is bloody stupid!" he snapped after a while. "By the time we get there they will all be dead."

"Shut up you daft fool!" Gawain replied equally snappish.

"We are going too slow" the knight continued not listening to his comrade.

"What would you have me do Bors?" Arthur questioned softly drawing alongside the knight.

"Leave them behind."

"And the six of us will manage to defeat a woad army."

"We've done it before!"

"No Bors we haven't. If the fort is on fire then something more than a small skirmish has befallen it. Even with all the men here I predict we are going to have problems."

Arthur paused.

"I feel as you do Bors. If will was all it took we would be there now. We would have defeated the enemy and be sat in the tavern listening to Lancelot's tales of bravery. But I can't…"

Again the Roman paused. Taking a deep breath he continued.

"Right now Lancelot will be fighting despite the fact that he is wounded and shouldn't be. I keep seeing in my mind the many ways he could be wounded or killed."

Bors looked apologetic.

"TRISTAN!" Arthur called. "Scout ahead."

The knight cantered off.

"Just be patient Bors there will be plenty of action for you later."

O

As consciousness slowly returned the first thing Lancelot was aware of was burning pain. He was in agony, never had he experienced such pain before and he had experienced pain.

He couldn't help the whimpers that escaped his numb lips and as the shakes increased due to the freezing sleet that was battering his body he felt tears slide down his cheeks.

Lancelot considered himself a brave man, someone who wasn't easily cowed but this was pushing it. As much as he wanted to maintain his arrogant personality he knew that his body couldn't take much more and if the man returned Lancelot wasn't so sure he wouldn't beg. That was more of a failure, an admittance of defeat, a humiliation than anything else. How could he look his fellow knights in the eye? Or Arthur? After being defeated so quickly and easily!

'Now I know why I don't like being alone my thoughts are truly depressing and morbid'

A gust of wind blew against his frozen body and he bit his lip to try and muffle his cry. As more awareness seeped into him he realised where he was.

'I'm hanging from the gates. Brilliant!'

His eyes drifted across the field in front of him. The bodies were frozen in death and the man closest to him had died with his eyes open. The sightless orbs burned into him as if condemning him and Lancelot had to avert his gaze.

He wondered where the army had gone and then realised they were probably lying in wait for the Romans to return. There was no way he could warn anybody.

The cold was settling deep into his bones and he could no longer hold back his cries. The potion he had been given heightened the feeling of pain till it was all he could think on. He writhed against the gate making his back even more raw. Blood continued to run from his back, from his wrists due to the rope securing his hands above his head and from his lip that he bit through in an attempt to quiet himself.

'Please help me' he begged as unconsciousness claimed him again. He forgot all about supposed bravado!

OO


	15. Chapter 15

Authors notes: Thanks again to my fabulous reviewers!

OO

Tristan urged his mare into a canter. He itched for action. The constant scouting and returning to report his findings was wasting precious time. He was considering heading to the fort himself, Lancelot needed them and he knew that the knight wouldn't be waiting for the legionnaires if one of them were in trouble.

Darkness had settled and he could barely see the smoke, only the distorting of the stars as the tendrils blocked them from view momentarily.

With a sigh he slowly turned his horse and trotted back to the main group. As he approached he quickly glanced over their faces. Bors looked murderous and Galahad looked extremely frustrated. Dagonet appeared calm although small crinkles across his forehead indicated the tension he was feeling.

Gawain kept glancing at Galahad and Arthur his anguish at the situation clearly showing.

Arthur was, well, there were no words to describe how he must be feeling. They had been deceived and the results of that was Lancelot being left in harms way.

"Report." Arthur said softly as Tristan drew alongside.

"No sign of woads. Smoke is still on the horizon."

"Thank you." The roman spoke with no emotion. Tristan couldn't be sure that the man had even processed the information. Not that there was much to process. The report had been the same every time he went out.

"I should scout to the fort." He murmured attempting to prevent any of the other knights hearing.

"No."

"I would advise against just emerging from the treeline unprepared for what we may face."

"Could I trust you not to charge in there and help if the need arose? Could you sit and wait for us while watching a slaughter." Arthur said turning to look at the scout.

"I am not afraid of death and I will not shy away from offering aid but this needs to be done Arthur."

"Fine but if the odds are overwhelming do not engage. I want you to determine a plan of assault and nothing more."

"I will do what I feel is necessary Arthur."

Tristan offered a smile so like Lancelot that Arthur felt his heart contract painfully. Then the scout was gone.

O

Jols was tugged painfully to the ground by Plautius.

"There is nothing you can do!" the Roman stated unhappily as he held onto the struggling squire.

The small group of survivors were huddled together watching as the woads dragged anyone they found out into the courtyard.

"We have to help them!"

"And do what? We will be struck down before we could get close."

Both of them suddenly flinched as the woads began to kill them one by one after questioning them.

"Those bastards!" Jols exclaimed.

"That knight Lancelot, he's being dragged in." one of the two remaining legionnaires pointed out.

Jols quickly averted his gaze from the bloody scene in front of them. His heart was relieved that the knight was still alive but he was obviously in bad shape.

The knight was being questioned but was obviously not giving the right answers. Jols felt every blow that Lancelot was dealt and when Lancelot screamed he almost cried. To see the bravest of all the knights reduced to a screaming bloody mess was the worst thing he could ever imagine.

"What are they doing?" Jols whispered as they watched the knight being dragged to the main gate.

"They are attaching him to the gate!" Plautius said shocked.

"Why would they do that?" the legionary asked.

"A warning or a symbol of the defeat." Plautius responded.

"Its freezing he'll die out there!" Jols exclaimed.

"What do you suggest? A polite request to let him down?" the Roman responded sarcastically.

Jols turned on him furiously.

"So we just sit here! Watch everyone die? Like cowards!"

"I like this no more than you do but getting ourselves killed will not help anyone. They are not going to sit around for an age."

"So we just wait here until they get bored?"

Plautius almost growled in frustration and decided not to answer. Instead he turned his attention back to the woads.

"They are withdrawing…look!" Plautius said as he noted the woads leaving through the main gate. Jols immediately leapt up and started for the courtyard.

"Do you have straw for brains?" the roman demanded as he again pulled the squire to the ground.

"Why did you stop me?" the squire snarled, pure fury radiating off him.

"They will not have gone far. They are probably watching and waiting for us to emerge. If we go out there they will know that everyone is hidden in here and that they hadn't escaped before the attack."

Jols went limp in his restraint.

"How long do we wait?" he questioned softly.

Plautius looked thoughtful. "Lets split up. We can scout around, if they are planning on returning we can try some traps."

"What about those in the cellars?" one of the legionnaires asked.

"They'll have to stay there of course." Plautius stated as he started to plan his moves.

"Yes sir but I mean they will need food and water."

"True but whatever we do they have to remain there and remain quiet."

"What about the fire?"

"Its sleeting and most of what will catch alight has already burned. The wind is not strong so hopefully it will burn itself out."

"That leads me back to my original question. How long do we wait?"

"Meet back here at dawn tomorrow. We'll discuss it then."

They broke off and headed to separate areas of the fort. Just as Jols was about to disappear Plautius halted him.

"Do not go near Lancelot. They will be watching him most of all."

O

"Lancelot! Lancelot!" a young female voice cried. He felt someone poking him in the shoulder and knocked the irritating hand away from him.

With a sigh he relaxed again letting the sun warm his skin. His flexed his fingers allowing the soft grass to run across his skin.

Suddenly cold water splashed on his face and he opened his eyes to be met with the smiling face of his little sister. She giggled and danced out of reach of his flailing arms. He felt his face light up and he scrambled to his feet.

"Why you little…!" he exclaimed in mock anger. She laughed again and ran up the hill towards their village. Lancelot shook his head and charged after her, keeping his pace slow so he would not catch her.

As he reached the top of the hill he halted and looked down upon his village. It was bathed in the early afternoon sunshine and the sound of children's laughter floated on the wind.

"There's nothing greater in the world is there son?" his fathers voice appeared in his ears.

"It is good to have you home but I think you need to wash up before dinner."

Lancelot turned to his face his father whose smiling face was looking over him. Lancelot looked down and saw his body was covered in blood. It wasn't just dried blood but the wounds were still bleeding. He stumbled backwards and fell clumsily to the ground.

"Father?" he whispered. The man just laughed.

"Don't be late son you know how your mother gets if you are late for a meal."

Lancelot began to tremble in pain.

"Don't leave me here!" he cried but his father kept laughing and walking. Lancelot closed his eyes and when he opened them he was met with the dead staring eyes of the soldier. Despair washed over him and he let darkness take him over hoping that he would not wake again.

OO


	16. Chapter 16

Authors notes: Thanks to all my reviewers!

OO

Tristan had every intention to follow Arthur's orders, really he did. He had planned to hide in the tree line and closely monitor the fort and the enemy. However the sight that greeted him when he crested the hill was one that shocked him despite his many years as a knight and the many horrific scenes he had witnessed. Lancelot. Granted he had seen his fellow knights killed and even tortured but this was different. Anger filled his veins at the mistreatment his friend had suffered and the brazen display of arrogance by the woads in pinning him to the gate. He felt anger that after so long nothing had changed. The woads still loathed them, the Romans were still putting their lives on the line with blatant disregard for the consequences and no substantial gains were ever made. For every step forward they were knocked back and seeing the disaster before him made him realise that nothing was ever going to be resolved and their suffering would continue.

He knew the woads were watching the fort, waiting for their return. He considered his options and realised that even if it meant his certain death he would try and save Lancelot. The knight would do the same for any of them and damn the Romans but he would not follow orders this time. Nudging his mare forward he slumped forward putting on the pretence of being injured. Hopefully a lone injured rider would not become firing practice for some bored woads. His mare knew exactly where to go and trotted gamely towards the gates. Tristan held his breath and as he reached the gates he drew to a halt.

He allowed his mare to munch at the wisps of straw that had gathered around the entrance.

"Lancelot?" he whispered. There was no response.

"Lancelot!" he demanded more insistently. Again silence. With slow movements he removed his knife and then taking a deep breath he drew himself up, quickly cut the ropes binding Lancelot to the gate and dragged the still body onto his horse. Then as quickly as possible he urged the mare inside the gates just as three arrows impacted the gate where his head had been.

Once inside the fort Tristan quickly dismounted and dragged Lancelot out of the courtyard. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and quickly thrust out his knife.

"Tristan!" a voice squeaked. Jols. Tristan brought the knife away. He turned his attention back to Lancelot. The knight was shivering uncontrollably and small whimpers of pain passed his tinged blue lips.

"I need bandages, warm water…"

"There is none Tristan." Jols replied inching closer.

"What?"

"Look around you Tristan." The squire said in disbelief. For the first time the scout looked around. The fort was a smouldering ruin and the bodies of those unfortunate enough to be caught by the woads were sprawled in the courtyard.

"Where are the civilians?"

"In the cellars."

"What happened?"

"They took out the scouts and then attacked in darkness. Julio and Lancelot took the Romans out to face them. It was suicide but Julio refused to hide behind a wall and Lancelot refused to remain inside. Most of the legionaries fell. Julio called a retreat and he and three others made it inside. Lancelot didn't make it and the woads tortured him before pinning him to the gate."

Tristan nodded and moved to quickly examine the prone knight. Unfortunately as soon as he shifted the knight Lancelot screamed. Jols didn't know whether to be more startled at Lancelot or the fact that for the first time he saw Tristan jump.

Tristan barely noticed he jumped as his attention was focused on the screaming man. He had never heard Lancelot scream like this before. He had cried out in the midst of delirium a few times when his battle wounds had become infected but Tristan had never heard anything like this. The agony transmitted through the screams was palpable.

"What did they do to him?" he spat glaring at Jols.

"I don't know I couldn't see. I think they gave him a potion or something… I don't know." The squire stammered.

"DON'T LEAVE ME!" Lancelot screamed. He writhed and flailed his arms around. They latched onto Tristan's arms tightly.

"I WILL RETURN…PLEASE WAIT!"

"Calm down Lancelot." Tristan whispered but it had little effect.

"Where's Arthur and the others?"

"Half a day behind me." The scout said distractedly as he struggled to control Lancelot's flailing without hurting the man further.

"And you just rode in here plain as day!" an annoyed voice stated and Plautius appeared by their side.

"I don't expect you to understand." Tristan said calmly.

"Don't start that Roman versus Sarmatian crap." Plautius snapped. Tristan turned his head and fixed him with a glare that made the Roman unconsciously move backwards.

"He is a Sarmatian knight and my brother. The degradation that has befallen Lancelot is not something I shall let stand."

"Do you think we left him there because we couldn't be bothered to get him down?" Jols questioned angrily. He cared for these knights greatly but he would never in their eyes be included within their inner sanctum.

"The woads know someone is alive within here but they are not going to waste their time by killing one scout. They are waiting for Arthur." Tristan brushed his hand over Lancelot's curls. The knight shied away and once again cried out.

"Look after him." The scout said as he rose to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Plautius demanded.

"I need to scout the enemy and await Arthur."

"You won't get out of here." The Roman pointed out.

"Really?" Tristan smiled. "What did you think I was doing when I was stuck in the fort all day?"

Without saying another word he disappeared.

"He's still conscious." Jols murmured. "Surely he should be unconscious."

"Whatever those bastards gave him must be preventing it. To prolong the agony or something."

Jols winced in sympathy and tried to sooth the knight.

"He is burning hot. We need to get him some sort of medical supplies or the doctor."

"Not around when you need…al.always around…when…when…don't." a voice gasped and the two quickly glanced down to see the pain filled eyes of Lancelot looking back at them.

"Lancelot!" Jols cried happily. "How are you?"

The knight glared. "Stupid question idiot." He said his voice just above a whisper.

"Well you can't be too bad off if you are still insulting people." Jols said as he allowed Lancelot to squeeze his hand as a wave of pain enveloped the man.

"What…what…happened?"

"Tristan got you down."

"Arthur?"

"No Tristan was scouting ahead. They will be here soon."

"Trap." Lancelot whispered. The knight looked so exhausted the drug working extremely effectively.

"We know. There is not way to avoid it. Just hold on Lancelot and soon you will be back on your feet."

"Liar."

OO


	17. Chapter 17

Authors notes: Thank you for all the reviews!

OO

Tristan crawled through the dirt ignoring the twigs and branches that were scratching his skin and clothes. Unlike most of his fellow knights he did not mind getting dirty and hadn't uttered one word in complaint. By now the other knights would have gotten them discovered with their moaning especially Galahad.

The woads were lying in wait within the trees watching the main road for Arthur. Tristan therefore avoided it and stuck to the muddy forest floor creeping past their sentries. It took all of his power and instincts to evade them but he did just that. He ran alongside the road and after half an hour he heard hooves. Halting and breathing heavily he watched as Arthur rode into view. He stepped into their path.

The horses were pulled to a halt, their chests heaving and their flanks sweaty.

"What news?" Arthur asked quickly.

"The fort is surrounded and it has been burned. There are casualties but I managed to get inside. Jols and Plautius are still alive and most of the population are within the cellars."

"Lancelot?" Arthur whispered and he tensed up as if he was expecting bad news.

"He fought but he still lives." Tristan said simply and he refused to elaborate, it would not help the situation in any way.

"Mount up with Gawain." Arthur stated. "We should reach there within the hour."

Tristan remained on the ground. He looked around at the exhausted faces of the legionnaries.

"I would recommend against it." The scout replied. Arthur's face at once became thunderous.

"Pardon me." Arthur said quietly but there was no doubting the underlying anger in his tone.

"If we head to the fort right this instant I guarantee that by the time the woads attack half of these soldiers would have fallen over in exhaustion."

Arthur had a good look around him and for the first time saw the sorry state the group was in. They would have trouble fending off a small attack let alone an army. Tristan sighed and wished Lancelot was here. The knight though blunt always made Arthur see sense much quicker.

"The woads are lying in wait for us, we need to rest."

"There are almost a hundred civilians in the fort there is no time to wait." Tristan decided to be Lancelot blunt.

"Arthur the Romans faced them, everyone they could muster and they were slaughtered. Their bodies litter the ground and if we attack tonight we will join them. Do not let Lancelot's suffering be in vain."

That struck a nerve and Arthur nodded his assent. The knights and Romans withdrew from the road. The legionnaries collapsed in a heap and after stuffing whatever food they had into their mouths they fell asleep. Only the two centurions remained awake and joined the knights as they settled down.

Tristan explained everything he had noted and then it was agreed upon that everyone would take some sleep. Plans would come easier in the morning when they could actually form coherent sentences and focus their eyes on something. It did not take long before they joined the Romans in sleep. Arthur however remained awake and Tristan knew he would ask about Lancelot.

"How is he really?" the man asked.

"He was captured and tortured."

Arthur closed his eyes. "Why did he fight?" Tristan knew the question did not require an answer.

"Will he live?" Arthur continued. Tristan shrugged.

"It depends on him… Go to sleep Arthur I will keep first watch."

The Roman commander eventually succumbed to exhaustion after a few hours.

O

Lancelot squeezed his eyes shut and a few tears left streaks down his dirty face. Jols was fussing over him without really accomplishing anything. The knight would have bitten his head off if he had been feeling a fraction better.

"Where does it hurt?"

"I swear…if…if you ask another stupid question I will kill you." Lancelot spat amid his gasps of pain.

"I'm sorry." Jols spluttered anxiously. "I don't know what to do."

"Kill me."

Jols laughed nervously. "You can't be too bad off if you are joking."

"I wasn't joking." The knight gasped and groaned as another wave of agonising pain swept over him. Jols froze like a badly startled deer.

"Umm…umm."

Lancelot rolled his eyes and with swift curses he attempted to pull himself up.

"Don't worry I won't ask you…ask you to kill me."

The look of relief that spread across Jols face was hilarious if only he could laugh.

"Help me up." The knight said after a few minutes of desperate panting as he attempted to adjust to the pain of sitting up. 'Well what do you know? Pain seems to have no limiting factor.'

"What do you mean get up?" the squire questioned alarmed.

"Well I am not going to accomplish anything just sat here. We need to arrange our defence."

"And what do you propose we do?" Plautius said as he joined them. "The fort is smouldering and most of the Romans are dead. The civilians are in the cellars, Arthur is still hours away and we are surrounded by woads."

"Your point being?"

"That whatever the woads have given you has addled your brain."

"We can't just sit here."

"Yes you can. Tristan is returning to Arthur we just have to hold out until they get here."

"Plautius the gates are open." Jols pointed out. "We couldn't hold out against children."

"Can we…" Lancelot yelped and he screwed up his eyes.

"Can we what?" Jols questioned.

"Close the gate." The knight whispered.

"There would be no point. The woads are under the impression that everyone inside has abandoned the fort. Already Tristan has shown that someone is alive here by cutting you down and vanishing inside. If we start anything they will see and assume that there are more alive in here than should be and attack again. I don't have to explain to you that we would unable to resist a second attack and all those in the cellars could be slaughtered."

A distressed look appeared on Lancelot's face and he slumped down to the ground again.

"Arthur will be here soon and everything will be well again." Jols tired to reassure him.

"Arthur has barely more troops than we had." The knight murmured as his eyes closed tiredly. Jols swapped concerned glances with Plautius.

"Lancelot?" Plautius asked. "Are you still with us?"

"Unfortunately."

Jols grasped Lancelot's hand and the knight squeezed it tightly in response to the waves of pain.

"Keep fighting Lancelot. This mess will soon be sorted out…I hope." Plautius muttered the last part and watched as Lancelot began to shake as his exhausted body attempted to cope with the horrific abuse that it had suffered.

OO


	18. Chapter 18

Authors notes: A great big thanks to all my lovely reviewers!

OO

Arthur barely slept; his dreams were flooded with images of blood, screams and death. He had watched as Lancelot was killed many times, each more violent than the one before. Finally after he had seen Lancelot burned alive his body woke him. Arthur felt just as exhausted as he had been when he went to sleep.

With a deep sigh he stretched and rose to his feet. He caught Tristan's eye and the scout moved around the sleeping knights and Romans rousing them. By the time everyone was conscious Arthur had mounted and was ready to leave. The silent order for haste was met with a quick response and within minutes everyone was ready to go.

Without saying a word Tristan disappeared forward of the party. An unspoken quiet had descended upon the group as the tension increased. They all knew they were heading for a confrontation that would probably result in most, if not all, of their deaths. In addition the knights' attention was focused on the fate of their fellow knight, Lancelot. All of them knew that Tristan had not told the whole truth of the knight's condition and the almost haunted look in his eyes made them very afraid.

Arthur was a man possessed. He felt anger and instead of trying to suppress it he allowed it to encompass his whole being. He was beyond furious at both himself, the Romans, the world even at this moment with his god. This whole situation had been a series of mistakes and disasters and they had been so easily led. The woads must be laughing at them. If he was in their position he would probably be mocking them.

"So what's the plan?" Bors asked Arthur, moving so he was riding next to their leader. The question came as a surprise to the Roman who hadn't considered it. He pulled his horse to a halt and Gawain let out a stream of curses as his horse ran into the back of Arthur's.

"Pontius and Licinius." He called and the two centurions made their way forward.

"Does everyone at Baden Hill have such a blatant disregard for ranks and common courtesy?" Licinius snarled. He was pissed. This whole operation was amateurish to say the least! If these were the famed Sarmatian knights the stories had been greatly embellished.

"Now is not the time." Pontius responded with a scowl.

"We need a distraction." Arthur stated. "Or we will be slaughtered as soon as we set foot outside the forest."

"True." Pontius uttered. "What is your plan?"

"Myself and my knights will head to the fort. Tristan will brief you on the woads positioning and I want you to bring your forces around their rear and flanks…"

"And what do you hope to achieve by that other than offering the woads ourselves on a platter." Licinius interrupted.

"Your death hopefully." Bors muttered. Arthur shot him a look that said 'shut up'.

"So far I am less than impressed with the knights I see under you command Castus but whatever my feelings are I do not want the results of this mission to be a massacre. I hope your plan is more extensive than that."

"Unfortunately it isn't but then again if you have a better plan I am willing to hear it."

"Night." The Roman centurion said. "This so called plan will be more effective at night. Maximum disruption and confusion is achieved in darkness. I also suggest that you are not the bait. They have archers and will be able to pick you off easily without putting themselves in positions of danger. Dress my soldiers up as yourselves."

"No." Arthur responded and the expression of frustration reappeared on Licinius face.

"I will not sacrifice your soldiers. The rest of your plan makes sense." Arthur sighed heavily.

"I am sorry that this has turned into an unorganised mess, I have allowed by anger at being fooled to overcome my senses."

Licinius allowed his anger to dissipate. He was not a horrible man, he just liked organisation and not to be commanded to do things with no thought to him and his soldiers. He had to admit if he was in Arthur's situation he would have probably gotten them killed by now.

"There is no need to apologise I haven't exactly been on my best behaviour."

The two men nodded at the apologies. Pontius grinned.

"Well now that has been sorted out can we get back to the matter at hand." He said pointedly.

"Right so we attack at night. We need to get in among them and cause confusion. Then we need to separate them into groups. We have to avoid a pitched battle where we will surely lose."

"Agreed." Pontius stated and Licinius nodded in assent.

"Tristan take the best scouts we have and I want a secure positioning of all the woads so we can deploy our forces."

The centurions agreed and quickly sent orders back to their collective men.

"Our main priority is to avoid the woads attacking the fort again and discovering the people hidden in the cellars."

Arthur surveyed the group who still looked tired. "I want you to arrange the groups and with the return of the scouts, the positioning of them. As soon as everyone is able I want us to reconvene and we will discuss signals and tactics."

"Fine"

"Right"

The two centurions returned to their soldiers and Arthur turned to face his knights.

"I don't want any heroics." He said. "I know that people we care about are in there but for this we need our heads clear."

The knights nodded.

"I hope you have included yourself in that Arthur." Dagonet said as he drew alongside Arthur, keeping his voice low to avoid the others overhearing.

"I do."

"Good and I won't hesitate to inform you of that."

Arthur smiled.

O

Lancelot was considering suicide. At the moment it seemed fairly easy to accomplish considering their predicament. He could just walk out of the gates and bam that would be it. Unfortunately Jols on a misguided logic would try to stop him.

With a sigh he lifted up his right arm and rubbed his eyes. He was so tired and as he lowered his arm he suddenly saw a mark on his wrist. Peering more closely at it he realised that someone had carved a symbol into his skin.

"Jols?" he shouted and winced as his head pounded. The squire quickly appeared.

"What? Do you feel worse?"

"What is that?" he demanded. His stomach sank as he saw the squire look away guiltily.

"Jols don't make me get up!" Lancelot snapped the pain making his short temper even more so.

"It is a woad mark."

Lancelot rolled his eyes. "Well I assumed that one of you hadn't gotten bored and used me as a book. What does it mean?"

Jols paused and then at Lancelot's look told him.

"Slave."

A mixture of anger, humiliation and shame filled the knight's eyes. Jols opened his mouth to try and offer some comfort but Lancelot halted him before he began.

"Go away."

"Lancelot…"

"GO AWAY."

The squire could do nothing but obey.

OO


	19. Chapter 19

Authors notes: Thank you for the reviews. Please its dissertation and exam time, please, please, please review and make my day so much brighter:-)

OO

Plautius heard the shouting and saw Jols leave the room they had dragged Lancelot into. The squire looked around and saw the Roman knelt by the body of Julio.

"How is he?" Jols said reaching him.

"Not good. How's Lancelot?"

"Not good either. He just found the mark."

Plautius nodded in understanding. He doubted that he would have reacted any differently to a similar discovery on himself.

"Any chance we could find the doctor?"

Jols shrugged. "Hopefully. I will go look but I don't quite know where he ended up."

The squire hurried away.

"Did we win?" Julio whispered. Plautius shook his head.

"Not even close. We are awaiting Arthur's arrival and hopefully some further reinforcements."

Julio sighed. "He will come…Lancelot."

"If he can."

"Lancelot?" Julio questioned studying the Roman soldier.

"I don't know. The woads gave him something that has him in agony, unable to sleep or even to lapse into unconsciousness. If he doesn't get help soon I fear that he may not survive."

"Dying." Julio choked out.

"I thought you disapproved of pessimism." Plautius stated as he continued to apply firm pressure on the wound. He had removed the arrow earlier and since then had been trying to stop it but it was not lessening. If Julio didn't get help the wound would more than likely kill him.

"Realism…"

"HA!" Plautius said. "If Lancelot was here he would scoff in your face. Romans and realism don't belong in the same sentence."

O

Jols scrambled down the stone steps to the cellars. He had to clamber over the obstacles that had been deposited hastily to try and prevent the discovery of those within the underground rooms. Opening the doors he let out a yelp as something sharp grazed his skin.

"JOLS!" a voice exclaimed. "I am so sorry."

The squire turned to see one of the other squires holding his sword as if it were a poisonous snake. A small sliver of blood marred its polished surface.

"No harm done. Glad to see you are alert."

"Is it over? Did we win?"

"They have moved back into the trees to await Arthur. There were heavy casualties, most of the Romans are dead and the defences are breached."

The brief flash of relief when Jols said the woads had retreated quickly disappeared when he mentioned the casualties.

"If they have retreated why can't we leave?" a voice called from somewhere in the crowd of people who had now risen to their feet.

"Because as soon as they realise that people are in here they will come back and finish the job. They believe you escaped before the attack, Lancelot refused to give up your location when he was tortured and I will not let his suffering be in vain. If one of you sets foot out of here then you seal the fate for the rest of those hiding here."

"Why have you come then?" the squire who had almost stabbed him asked.

"We need the doctor."

"I thought you said they were dead. Why then do you need the doctor?" Another voice called.

"I didn't say they were dead. We have some seriously wounded people out there and I will not allow them to suffer without some aid. If the doctor has disappeared I will need any medical supplies you have."

At first no one moved and Jols growled in frustration. He understood they were afraid but these people had been injured defending them.

"Out of my way. Let me through." An authoritative voice demanded and to his great relief Jols saw the doctor elbowing his way through the crowd.

"Lead on Jols. I bet that Lancelot has ruined all the work I have done so far. If he has I am going to kill him."

O

Lancelot stretched his hand out as far as his weakened body would allow but he still could not reach the knife. With a noise of frustration he withdrew it.

Gritting his teeth he attempted to pull his body towards it but his strength had finally failed him and he could do nothing but lay and pant.

"Damn it." His eyes caught sight of the mark and he let out an angry shout.

"Glad to see your not dead yet." A familiar voice exclaimed. The doctor appeared.

"How could Arthur's hell be any worse than this?" he muttered in response.

"That's gratitude for you. Seen as you are awake and definitely grumpy I will take it as a sign that you are not about to die and I will see to my other patients."

"Thanks." Lancelot replied sarcastically.

"Not a problem just keep that attitude up and the herbs will get increasingly fouler."

The doctor disappeared again and Lancelot muttered some curses as he once again reached for the knife. He would get this mark off him before anything else, even if he had to cut it off.

Just as his fingers grazed the object a hand reached out and pulled the knife away. Lancelot stared accusingly at Jols who glared right back at him.

"I'm guessing you didn't need that for any practical reason so I am not about to return it."

"I thought I told you to go away."

"You did and now I am back and there is no way that I am letting you cause anymore damage to yourself because Arthur will almost certainly kill me for it."

Lancelot closed his eyes feigning defeated acceptance but, he thought, I will get it off and no one is going to stop me.

O

Arthur watched as Tristan returned with the other scouts. They hurried towards him and the two centurions joined them.

"Report." Arthur said simply.

"They are all within the trees as we suspected but they seem to be less than we anticipated. If we deploy our troops carefully we should be able to cause maximum confusion."

"Do we have a chance?" Pontius asked. Tristan shrugged.

"Depends"

"On what?" Licinius questioned.

"How many I kill."

Licinius's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Well I know you don't lack confidence." He said after a while.

Arthur chuckled. "That is something that they would never be accused of lacking."

Pontius joined in the chuckling.

"Have you divided your men?" Arthur said returning the conversation to the serious side. Both centurions nodded.

Arthur nodded and quickly outlined his plan. Within minutes the soldiers moved to their assigned places to await the darkness.

The three leaders remained in a group together.

"If this fails I want you to get everyone out of the fort." Arthur stated.

"Arthur if this fails none of us will be able to get to the fort." Pontius pointed out.

"No, it will not go that far. If the battle goes ill I will signal you. My knights and I will hold them for as long as possible."

"No." Licinius said. "We can not protect them as much as we would wish to. We are either victorious or we are defeated. There is no middle ground." Pontius said.

"I have sent messengers to other forts. If we hold out long enough then hopefully help will come." Licinius offered as a slight hope.

"Unless they can fly I do not think they will be in time." Pontius replied.

"Miracles can happen." Arthur pointed out.

"Now is as a good a time as any." Licinius said as he rose to his feet.

"I have to see to my men. I wish you both all the luck in the world and I shall see you for a drink when it is over." The centurion offered a salute and walked away. Pontius rose as well.

"I second that Arthur. We will be victorious."

"I hope you are right."

The two parted ways their hearts heavy with the thought of the upcoming battle and the suffering it would cause.

OO


	20. Chapter 20

Authors notes: Many thanks to the kind words of Camlann, Ithil-valon, DJ Sparkles, A, Darkknight and Irishfire! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

OO

"Well this is new for me!" the doctor exclaimed with an almost excited expression. Lancelot wished he still had the knife.

"Glad to be of service." He muttered.

"Can you do something for him?" Jols demanded not used to this bantering between the two.

"I don't know. I don't want to give you anything in case it has adverse affects."

"What bloody use are you then?" the knight questioned annoyed.

"I can treat your wounds to make sure they don't get infected." The doctor said setting down his medicines and bandages.

Lancelot stopped him.

"Look is there really any point. The woads are about to attack again."

The doctor frowned. "I am not going to let you die as much as it would please some people."

"Look doctor just make me mobile. That is all I ask." Lancelot whispered.

"What the hell do you want to be mobile for?... Oh no." Jols exclaimed and his face went white.

"Jols go help Plautius." Lancelot ordered. The squire flinched and began to shake his head.

"NOW JOLS." Lancelot said his most authoritative voice. It was barely a scratch on his normal tone but it still bore weight. The squire turned to leave.

"We will discuss this later." He stated firmly indicating his displeasure.

As soon as the scout had left Lancelot turned his attention back to the doctor.

"Look Crassus you can see the situation we are in and you have little idea what ails me. We are going to need all the soldiers we can."

Crassus was shocked at the use of his name. Lancelot and he normally spent most of their time bickering, trying to outdo each other with insults. After the shock of that wore off he realised what Lancelot was asking of him.

"Lancelot just because I have little idea what ails you doesn't mean I can't help. I will not give up on you."

"Doctor when the woads burst through here I would rather meet them on my feet rather than weak on the ground waiting for them to kill me. Give me something that will mean that I can fight."

Crassus looked torn.

"I am a knight Crassus; this is what I do…" At the doctors continued reluctance Lancelot offered a slight compromise.

"Once this is over you can treat me all you want."

The doctor blinked in shock at the surprising offer. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth the doctor agreed. If he didn't help Lancelot would find a way to get on his feet and cause himself greater injury.

He quickly set to work treating and bandaging the wounds. Then he pulled out a small vial of liquid. Lancelot looked at him questioningly.

"It will deaden your senses but only take a drop and remember it does not heal you magically so be careful."

"I am always careful." Lancelot smirked.

"Right and I see you so much because you love my company. I bet your fellow knights will love to hear that one." The man joked as he rose to his feet.

"Do and die. It's that simple."

"The threat would be so much more menacing if it was not spoken from a man flat on his back, weak as a kitten."

Lancelot glared and the doctor left.

O

Arthur watched as darkness settled on the area and he moved forward, creeping along the ground. In front of him stood a woad sentry who was remarkably lax and currently eating berries.

'Thank you very much' Arthur thought as he moved up and slashed the man's throat. Throughout the forest he knew similar killings were taking place. As quickly as he came he faded back into the forest.

He wondered how long it would before they noticed and the alarm was raised. He didn't have to wonder long as shouts and whistles echoed through the forest. With a quick signal the knights mounted and charged forward into the surprised rear of the woads. It was simple but effective.

The woads scattered as most would have done in the face of such opposition. However, they regrouped quickly and fought fiercely.

Bors decapitated a woad before swinging off his horse with more agility than his build would suggest possible. With a mighty war cry he stabbed his sword through the unprotected belly of the nearest man. The thrust was so powerful that the sword emerged the other side. He pulled it back out and slashed the next figure unfortunate to cross his path. Vanora was in that fort, so were his bastards and Lancelot. Lancelot may be an irritating asshole some of time but he was one of them and Lancelot would have fought with every fibre of his being to save one of them.

With an almost sixth sense Bors managed to avoid Dagonet who had appeared at his side and instead take out the warrior next to him. The two didn't even exchange words as they lapsed into familiar battle tactics.

Gawain hit the ground hard and lay stunned.

'Typical, I haven't bloody killed anyone yet.'

A hand yanked him back to his feet and he turned to see Arthur just as the Roman shoved him backwards to avoid his head being caved in. Before he could utter his thanks Arthur moved on. Galahad appeared at his side. However, before Galahad could say or do anything a woad slammed a sword into his head and he was instantly unconscious. Gawain swore and quickly moved to stand over him, protecting him. Fortunately for him Tristan had seen their predicament and whenever a woad slipped past his defences an arrow would fell them.

Gawain knew that this would not last and desperately looked round for another source of aid. The battle plan meant this was not going to be forthcoming, the soldiers were too widely dispersed and the flaw in this plan was revealed instantly.

Lancelot opened the jar and dropped some of the liquid into his mouth. Within a few seconds he felt its effects. The pain lessened dramatically and he did feel almost normal. He struggled to his feet and his head swam at the change in altitude. Clutching the wall while bitterly complaining about the number of times he had recently been in this position he waited for his vision to clear.

Suddenly he heard the sounds of fighting. Arthur had arrived. He looked down at the jar and swallowed it before he could contemplate his actions. Arthur needed him, he was probably dying and he wanted revenge. There was nothing else to be said about it.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jols asked as he came back in with Plautius.

"Jols get every man who can wield a weapon out into the courtyard as quickly as you can." Lancelot ordered and he took a deep breath and strode away from the support of the wall.

"What did the doctor do?" Plautius questioned.

"The cure. It works really quickly." Lancelot lied and glared at Jols before the squire could blurt out anything.

"JOLS NOW!" Lancelot yelled using the order that he had done before.

"After this you and I are definitely going to have words." The squire snapped extremely annoyed.

Lancelot waved him off.

"How's Julio?" the knight asked.

"The wound is mortal. The doctor is with him."

"Where are the two legionnaries?"

Plautius shouted out some orders and the two men appeared.

"Find me a horse and some weapons. We need to arm anyone Jols brings out to fight. Then we are going to see about some vengeance."

OO


	21. Chapter 21

Authors notes: Thank you for the reviews. Finals are next week so the next chapter could be delayed until the week after…sorry! Hope you enjoy!

OO

Jols strode through the passageway angrily muttering various insults along the way. Behind him were thirty men and some women who were all willing to fight. He had gathered together the other squires who were attempting to collect loose horses and weapons. Anger was building within him and either Lancelot or the woads were going to be on the receiving end. He decided Lancelot could wait; he had woads to deal with first.

They entered the courtyard to see Lancelot stood next to Plautius holding Demon.

"Are you trying to give yourself a spectacular death?" Jols questioned indicating the prancing animal.

"You know me, not one for the subtle things in life."

The knight looked around and then back at Jols.

"Is that all you could get?"

"How many did you think were down there? Any more and we would have had to bring out the old men who would be more of a hazard to us than the woads."

Lancelot sighed and turned to Plautius.

"Help me up." He commanded. The centurion turned a long suffering expression on the Sarmatian. With a little shoving Lancelot was mounted. He had on a few bits of leather armour but he was mostly unprotected. Clutching a sword he turned to face the others.

"ARTHUR IS HERE BUT WE NEED TO WORK TOGETHER TO DEFEAT THIS ENEMY. EACH ONE OF YOU NEEDS TO STAND STRONG AND FIGHT HARD. THIS WILL NOT BE EASY BUT WE WILL TRIUMPH. VENGENCE WILL BE OURS!" Lancelot cried hoping the cry was rallying but he knew he was not as good as Arthur.

Plautius and Jols had mounted as well. With a nod from Lancelot they moved through the damaged gate onto the chaos of the battlefield.

O

Arthur swung Excalibur killing two woads before turning a feral look on the next unfortunate foe. The woads were everywhere. This battle was never going to be won; the woads were swarming all over them.

"ARTHUR!" he heard Bors yelling. As soon as he could he turned to see the knight waving at the fort. Following his frantic beckoning Arthur looked to see movement at the gates. To his amazement Lancelot was riding out followed by the scruffiest looking bunch of soldiers he had ever seen. The knight had obviously rounded up all that could fight. With a Sarmatian war cry that was surprisingly echoed by those with him they charged into the fray and that was the last Arthur could see of them. A large woad stumbled into him and he was drawn back into the fight.

O

Lancelot spurred Demon into a gallop and smiled in satisfaction as the animal eagerly responded. The stallion trampled any who came near them. Demon was vicious, rearing and bucking whenever a woad was in range. Lancelot's sword slashed and hacked. Although it lacked the usual power that the knight was able to wield, it was still extremely effective.

He glanced around and tried to pick out any of his fellow knights. Bors was relatively easy to hear with his Sarmatian curses and bellows but the other knights were less easy to spot. Turning Demon his eyes immediately sighted Arthur and the roman was about to be swarmed by woads. With a sharp kick the grey stallion ploughed through the woads as if they were strands of corn. Lancelot reached the roman and nearly bowled him over.

O

Arthur barely managed to jump out of the way as a grey horse knocked over the woad that was about to impale him. Looking up he saw his saviour was Lancelot. Before he could say a word Lancelot had wheeled his horse about and was yelling a Sarmatian cry calling for the mustering of soldiers. Arthur realised what he was trying to do, they were far too scattered to be able to inflict more than superficial casualties. They needed to withdraw, regroup and about face as quickly as possible.

Before he could do anything Lancelot had hold of him and was attempting to get him aboard his horse which the roman suddenly recognised was that monster of a horse from the stables. Realising that Lancelot was injured Arthur swiftly pulled himself aboard and the horse took off. They raced back towards the fort where he saw a couple of lads run out with a group of horses. With a start he realised that Lancelot had planned this well.

However, despite this it was still going to be extremely difficult to try and regroup everyone.

O

Tristan surveyed the battlefield from his position up a tree. Gawain was still battling to try and keep the woads away from the downed Galahad but he would not hold out for much longer. Bors and Dagonet were clearing a small path around themselves and it appeared that the woads were looking for easier targets. The Romans had for the most part grouped together and were putting up adequate resistance but it was only a matter of time.

Then he heard a familiar war cry and looked to the fort to see a very dishevelled Lancelot mounted on a frisky grey horse. He was leading some of the men from the fort and Jols. Shaking his head he descended from the tree, Lancelot was a stubborn as a mule and he would never give up.

He headed for Gawain's position determined to prevent Galahad's untimely demise. It didn't take him long to get to them, it never took a determined Tristan long to get anywhere.

"Glad you could join us." Gawain said breathlessly. The blonde knight looked dead on his feet.

Tristan shrugged. "Didn't want to spoil your fun."

Gawain rolled his eyes.

O

Plautius grabbed Jols as the squire fell from his horse with an arrow in his shoulder. The squire's momentum caused him to stumble backwards. He regained his footing and dragged Jols unceremoniously across the ground. Luckily for them they had been near the fort and a couple of women quickly appeared at the gates entrance. Plautius handed the squire over and hurried towards Lancelot. He noticed Arthur, Bors and Dagonet were also mounted, ready to charge again.

A motley group were clustered around them, not nearly enough to make a difference.

The grey horse Lancelot rode was still prancing around, throwing its head about and foaming at the mouth. Arthur was speaking to him and the knight was answering but all the while he was looking around the battlefield as if trying to spot someone.

"We need to retreat." Lancelot was saying. "We can hold out in the fort longer than out here."

"We are too widely dispersed to get everyone back in. They will be slaughtered as they retreat."

"What are we waiting for?" Bors snapped. "There are woads to be killed."

Lancelot looked to Arthur and shrugged. They were all out of ideas. Arthur raised his sword and the knights charged into battle crying out their individual tribal war cries. Lancelot headed for someone in particular. He was no ones slave.

OO


	22. Chapter 22

Authors notes: Thank you so much for wishing me well on my finals. As of today I am done so now all that is left is to await results…the anticipation is going to kill me. I hope the wait for this chapter wasn't too painful…anyway enjoy!

OO

Merlin stood on top of the hill watching the carnage that was unfolding on the plains below him. Arthur and his knights were going to be slaughtered, the fort would be overrun and all those within the fort would die. He would not allow that to happen. It was not concern for them, in truth their deaths would make his life much easier, it wasn't even decency or morals, the kind that prevented you from standing by and watching people being slaughtered. It wasn't any of these reasons, it was nothing to do with knights, it was a matter of revenge. Those monstrous figures were passing themselves off as woads hoping to bring the mighty legions of Rome here to destroy the woads with the intention to take over the vacuum of power.

Merlin's people had not escaped unharmed with a number of settlements being raised to a ground with no survivors. He would not allow them to continue doing so and Arthur had unwittingly aided the woads cause by distracting the monsters and causing them casualties. He was not one to pass up an advantage.

"Prepare to attack."

His lieutenant nodded and hurried back to inform the painted soldiers. He then returned to Merlin's side.

"What about Arthur?"

"Let them live, if they are defeated Rome will send much worse. Better the enemy we know."

The man nodded. Merlin raised his arm and with a cry they attacked as one.

O

Lancelot slumped forward onto Demon's neck. The numbing liquid was wearing off and the pain was returning full force. His wounds were bleeding, he was losing more blood than his body could sustain and it was taking its toll.

"Lancelot!" Arthur cried as he saw the knight slump forward as if he had been hit by an arrow. He turned his horse towards the knight and forced it to move towards Lancelot. The woads sensed the knight was weak and attempted to drag him from Demon. However, the horse put up a resistance, biting and kicking any who dared to get near. Lancelot clung weakly to Demon's mane and tried to turn the horse and get away from the chaos.

Arthur's progress towards his best friend was agonisingly slow. Lancelot was becoming weaker and then he was suddenly no longer on the stallion.

"NO!" Arthur cried.

He tried to urge his horse faster but bodies surrounded them and the animal could barely move.

"LANCELOT!"

"ARTHUR!" a voice cried but it was not the voice he was looking for. It was Dagonet and before he could even attempt to respond a woadish war cry echoed through the air. As if everyone had heard the cry the battle seemed to falter. Arthur turned in despair expecting to see reinforcements joining the battle. He was not disappointed. Hundreds of woad painted warriors were charging down the hillside.

'Well if he was going to die he was going to die fighting to save his best friend.'

Luckily for him the soldiers he was fighting seemed equally surprised at the appearance of the woads and he was able to move quickly and easily through the melee.

"ARTHUR!" Tristan yelled and he turned to see the scout pushing his way towards him.

"Arthur the reinforcements are attacking the woads."

"What?"

"I thought I noticed something different about them. The ones we are fighting must be a rogue group."

Arthur frowned confused but then pushed it aside. As long as they were leaving his soldiers alone he did not care about particulars.

"Get everyone inside the fort and secure the gates as best you can."

Tristan nodded.

"I need to find Lancelot."

O

Lancelot rolled to try and avoid Demon's flailing hooves. He felt many of the woads punch and kick him. Then eerily like before they stepped back.

"Come back for more then slave." The voice sneered and Lancelot dragged himself to his feet.

"I am no one's slave." Lancelot spat back.

"I beg to disagree."

"That's exactly what I expect of you. You know they always say the most dangerous creatures are those that are cornered and wounded, even then they aren't armed."

Adrenaline followed through him. He was dying but that meant he had nothing to lose. He was going to kill this man if it was the last thing he did.

The woad raised his sword and charged. Lancelot waited until the last moment to side step and bring his sword down across the man's back. His problem was that he was getting slower and the retaliatory thrust hit his flesh. He didn't even look as he spun around and danced a few steps backwards.

The duel continued as if nothing else in the world mattered and in truth it didn't. Blows were landed, the two stumbled and blood was shed. Time passed and it felt like an eternity; steps became slower, mistakes were made and sweat ran in trails down their dirty faces. Still they determinedly fought on.

Suddenly Lancelot's legs gave way. It was like his body had sailed past what he could tolerate and had simply given up. The sword fell from his hand.

"You see slave." The man snapped. "This is where you belong, on your knees before a Briton."

Lancelot turned his head up to glare at the man but even that took too much effort.

"Now you are going to die like the pathetic Roman you are."

"I AM NOT A ROMAN!" Lancelot snarled. "I AM A SARMATIAN."

"I don't care what you are. I am going to kill you nonetheless."

"Well quit the song and dance and fucking well get on with it."

The man raised his sword but Lancelot didn't close his eyes, he didn't look away. He stared straight at the man and challenged him to do his worst.

"NOOOOOO!" Arthur voiced screamed. Lancelot's face became sad.

'Not this time my friend. You cannot save me.'

He felt the sword enter his flesh. Frankly he expected it to be far more painful, perhaps his body had become accustomed to it? His body fell backwards but he barely felt any of it. On the horizon he noted that the first hint of the sun's rays peaking over the hills. Sunrise was the most beautiful time of the day, before the day got going and everyone awoke, when it was peaceful and the world remained untainted by blood, suffering and despair.

A warm metallic taste filled his mouth and he choked.

A blurry movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he noticed Arthur had arrived. The man looked frantic; Lancelot could tell he was yelling, pleading at him desperately.

'I am sorry Arthur, I am truly sorry.'

More people arrived, Tristan and Bors. They looked upset, extremely upset. He couldn't take all this emotion and he turned his eyes back towards the sun. His lips curved in a smile.

"Lancelot come and play." His sister said pulling on his hand. Lancelot shrugged his shoulders and clasped her hand tightly running down the hill as if he was ten again.

'Peace at last' he thought but unfortunately that was not the case. The world still had plans for him.

O


	23. Chapter 23

Authors notes: Thank you to dmitchell1974, A., LilyoftheValley4, KnightGuardian and Allegra for your great reviews and support. Enjoy this chapter!

OO

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Arthur was still running when he saw Lancelot fall to his knees, defenceless and vulnerable. He ran faster than he had in his whole life but it was not enough and the bastard struck the knight down.

Arthur killed the man who had stabbed Lancelot without thinking about it. He didn't watch him fall, instead slumping to his knees beside his best friend. Lancelot wasn't looking at him but at somewhere in the distance.

"LANCELOT!" the Roman screamed and then time sped up again. The blood was pumping out much too fast and covered Arthur's hands as he tried to keep it in his friend's body.

"Lancelot. Don't you dare die on me!" he snapped as he looked around for some help. Tristan and Bors were charging towards them knocking woads out of the way as they went.

Turning back he saw Lancelot was looking at him.

"That's it. You are going to be fine."

Arthur felt Tristan and Bors arrive but his eyes never left his friends. The knight smiled and turned away again before closing his eyes.

"NO!"

Tristan had joined Arthur beside Lancelot and pushed a piece of cloth under Arthur's hands.

"Arthur we need to move him."

The Roman didn't move. Bors grabbed Arthur and moved him backwards aware that there wasn't time to force the man to see sense. Tristan quickly continued to apply pressure adjusting his position as the huge knight gathered up his comrade. They hurried towards the fort with Arthur following blindly behind. In fact he practically ran into Merlin who appeared right in front of him, only his ingrained battle instincts prevented the collision.

"What do you want?" Arthur said in no mood for conversation.

"To speak with you Arthur." The woad said calmly.

"Now is not a good time."

"That is where you are wrong. Now is the best time unless you want your knight to die."

Arthur lunged at the man but was stopped by the sword points of several woads.

"Speak." He spat.

"We have been watching the fort and we know what happened to the one you call Lancelot. He was given a poison and I have the cure."

"So… what? You are going to hold us to ransom? What do you want?"

"I am not a cruel man. Give it to him and then we will meet again."

Merlin held out a corked pot.

"Why should I trust you? How do I know it is not a poison?"

Merlin shrugged.

"Look at your hands Arthur I don't think you have time to question it."

Arthur glanced at his hands heavily stained with Lancelot's blood. He snatched the pot.

"If this kills him nothing will keep you safe." Arthur promised and then turned and ran into the fortress.

O

Crassus neatly tied off the last stitch on the knight Galahad's head. The lad would have a nasty headache and feel as if the whole world was moving when he awoke but otherwise he would be fine.

"He will be fine just grumpy when he wakes up." He said to Gawain who was sat anxiously next to the bed. The knight smiled slightly and nodded his thanks.

Crassus got up and stretched before heading for his next patient. Luckily when Lancelot had gone out to fight most of those in the cellars had emerged. Now he had more than enough helpers and a few native healers. At the moment casualties were only trickling in, once the battle was over then they would be inundated unless of course they lost.

He was about to go to a Roman who was swaying dangerously on his pallet and had to be continually grabbed and stabilised by his comrade when the doors banged open. For a second he thought that this was the end but then he recognised the figures. The knights, Bors and Tristan, were carrying something or rather someone. He would bet his tavern money for the next month that it was Lancelot. He was not disappointed.

"Over here." He called indicating an empty pallet. With a gentleness that surprised Crassus Bors placed the injured knight carefully down without dislodging Tristan.

"What happened?"

"He took a sword thrust to the chest."

Crassus nodded and requested that the cloth be lifted up so he could examine the wound. It was a clean thrust but it was deep and very close to the heart. Considering the knight's other injuries he was surprised he was alive.

He set to work calling for assistance and a wide variety of medical implements and herbs. He was about to start cleaning the wound to make sure there was no foreign material in it to cause infections when the door banged open again. Glaring at the cause Arthur strode across the room.

"The cure." he said presenting the jar to Crassus.

"As far as I know there is no cure for a stab wound that comes in a pot." He said sceptically as he prodded the wound, he couldn't see anything and it really needed to be closed quickly so after a quick further inspection he got ready to stitch it closed.

"The poison. Its for the poison he was given." Arthur explained testily. Crassus grabbed the pot and placed it by the bed. He grabbed a needle and threaded it.

"He shouldn't wake up but just in case be ready to hold him down."

Then he began moving extremely quickly demonstrating his great skills as a physician.

Lancelot didn't wake; his body was so exhausted that nothing would have woken him. He was on the threshold of death.

Crassus wrapped the wound tightly as Bors held him upright before laying him back gently.

"Aren't you going to give it to him?" Arthur demanded.

Crassus rose to his feet and faced Arthur.

"I need to mix it with water for it to become a paste. However you should not get your hopes up. He was critically ill before he received this sword wound and I hold out little hope that he will live to see tomorrow."

Arthur looked like he had been punched in the stomach. He staggered slightly and held onto the wall for support.

"What happened to him?" he whispered. A new voice in the conversation spoke up. It was Jols who was lying on the pallet nearest them.

"He accompanied Julio out to try and defend the fort. They were grossly outnumbered and were swiftly overwhelmed. Julio ordered a retreat; Lancelot didn't make it within the walls. The woads captured and tortured him. They stormed the fort and demanded Lancelot tell them where the civilians were hiding. He didn't and they beat him."

"That was when he was poisoned? What did this poison do to him?" Arthur questioned as he sat down on the pallet.

"It caused extreme pain but prevented his body from lapsing into unconsciousness."

"How did he manage to lead out those men?" Tristan asked.

"I gave him something that numbed his body. He realised he was going to die. He wanted to go out on his feet." Crassus stated daring anyone to challenge his decision.

"You idiot." Arthur muttered almost fondly as he smoothed some of Lancelot's unruly hair off of his forehead. For a few minutes there was silence.

"Where did you get the potion?" Crassus asked.

"Merlin." Arthur said rising to his feet.

"And you took it?" Bors said disbelievingly.

"Why would he give you a cure?" Tristan asked at the same time.

Arthur shrugged.

"I don't know but what would he have to gain by giving us a poison, killing Lancelot would not be of massive gain."

"Unless they know what his death would do to you." Tristan whispered. Arthur glanced at him but refrained from commenting.

"I don't know his reasons but it could have something to do with this rogue group that we were fighting. He wants to meet with me later."

"Do you think that is wise?" Crassus asked.

"Do we have a choice? We are hardly in a position to defend ourselves. He could attack and destroy us with very little trouble but he hasn't."

"Yet." Bors muttered.

"I take that as a positive sign." Arthur responded and he signed returning to the pallet.

"Bors, Tristan I want a casualty count and then defensive preparations need to be put in place quickly just in case."

The knights nodded and after a last look at Lancelot they left.

"You think he will die?" Arthur asked sounding very tired as he watched from Lancelot's side as Crassus made the paste.

"He's cheated death many times, though I fear that death may be too strong to resist this time…Hold him up." Crassus said and Arthur manoeuvred himself into position. Crassus applied the paste to the inside of Lancelot's mouth and then quickly checked the bandages. The knight felt very warm to the touch and Crassus realised fever had set in.

"You need to bathe him with cool water." He stated to Arthur as they resettled the knight. "I will be back soon but I have to see to other patients."

Arthur nodded and he clasped Lancelot's hand hoping to provide his friend with some comfort. The knight however remained still as the fever raged his battered body.

OO


	24. Chapter 24

Authors notes: Thank you so much for the great reviews. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

OO

Lancelot stared at the hideous deformed creature stood in front of him with the air of disbelief that usually accompanies the discovery of something so out of the realms of normality that it bordered on the absurd. Where the hell had this thing been conjured from? Was his mind really this warped?

"You kill for a living." The creature hissed. "Why are you surprised that your mind has produced me?"

Lancelot frowned and moved to pull his swords from his back and then realised that he wasn't armed, he wasn't even wearing any armour.

"You can't kill me so what are you going to do? Use diplomacy…" the creature let out a harsh sound that Lancelot presumed was a laugh.

"Oh wait you are no good at that…guess you are doomed then."

The creature leapt at him and Lancelot fell under his weight. His last thought before the pain enveloped him was to question whether a creature created by his mind could in fact kill him.

O

Arthur fell off his chair jerking awake as he hit the floor. For a few seconds his mind was dazed and confused as to exactly what had happened and then he realised that Lancelot was screaming. Scrambling to his feet in a most undignified manner he quickly went to his friend's side.

All day and night Lancelot had been in the throws of delirium, screaming and crying for help, begging for the torture to stop. Nothing Crassus or Arthur had done had reduced the fever and all they had been able to do was restrain him when it looked like he would injure himself.

They had moved the knight into an isolated room to prevent him being disturbed or in turn disturbing the other patients. Arthur had spent most of the night with his friend but as dawn was rising again he would need to go out and see for himself the situation, however before all that he had to calm Lancelot down. Crassus burst through the door with Dagonet behind. The knight was thrashing on the bed and the trio grabbed his limbs holding him still. Lancelot continued screaming until suddenly he went limp.

"He is not getting better is he?" Arthur asked as he sat back down.

"No, but he is still alive and that is more than I expected when he was brought in."

Arthur sighed.

"I have to go and check on a few things but I will return as soon as I am able."

Crassus nodded. Arthur brushed his hand through Lancelot's hair and left with Dagonet after having one last look at Lancelot.

O

As soon as they exited the building Tristan approached.

"The rogue group have fled. Merlin is waiting outside; I believe he wants to talk to you." The scout stated raising an eyebrow.

Arthur rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"We could just shoot him; say Tristan had a muscle spasm?" Bors suggested as he joined the group. Tristan glared and Arthur smirked.

"If we could guarantee that the hoards of Britons won't seek bloody vengeance that might be a valid suggestion." The roman replied. It was a testament to how tired he was that he even thought about the idea for a brief second.

"Well I better go and talk to him."

"Be careful, if anything happens we'll charge out and kill them all." Bors assured him.

"If something happens to me you do not charge out there. The fort needs your protection." Arthur turned to Dagonet. "Sit on him if he even attempts anything, if that fails, Tristan shoot him."

Dagonet and Tristan both smiled at Bors affronted exclamations of being underappreciated. Arthur walked towards the gates and stared up at the mess that stood in front of it. He highly doubted that anything would get through that in a hurry; Tristan had done a good job. He decided that he would exit through one of the concealed doorways. He chose one that was out of sight of the woads, he didn't want to give anything away.

As Tristan said Merlin was stood patiently on the plain before the fort, his army behind him but not close enough to be uncomfortable.

"How is your knight?" Merlin asked.

"Still alive. What do you want?" Arthur said in no mood for a verbal sparing match.

"To share some information."

Arthur frowned. "What kind of information would you want to share with me?"

"Centurion Antoninus." Merlin replied. Arthur quickly searched his memory for the name and realised Antoninus was the commander of the fort most northerly in position on Britain's borders.

"What about him?"

"He is responsible for slaughters of my people and for this attack."

"WHAT?" Arthur exclaimed.

"He is working for himself with his unit commanders for profit."

"And what evidence do you have to base this on?" the roman said sceptically.

"I have seen it for myself. If you will come with me you will see that some of the warriors are not Britons."

Arthur nodded his assent and moved after the man. As the walked through the bodies Arthur had felt his heart clench as he saw the dead Romans. Merlin drew to a halt next to a group of his warriors and a dead rogue.

The Briton nodded and one of the soldiers removed the mask. The dead figure was clearly a Roman. Arthur was stunned.

"So they set this all up in the hopes that… what?" he wondered.

"That the Roman army would send their legions to destroy us. They could therefore take over resources and trade and grow rich with no interference."

"All this for greed?" Arthur said in disbelief and the naivety that the Roman had concerning human nature was exposed to Merlin.

"Greed is a powerful motivator…Get back to your knight. We will search for the leader."

"No" Arthur stated. "He needs to be brought to trial."

Merlin shook his head. "I cannot be certain that my men will not exact some sort of vengeance. This is not your Rome Arthur; you are not in control here no matter how many men you have."

Arthur froze considering all the options. The woads outnumbered them and were set for vengeance. Even though Arthur wanted to get to the bottom of this they were in no condition to even defend the fort let alone lead an attack. There wasn't really an option to be considered.

"You need to bring him to us with evidence. If you kill him nothing you have told or shown me will prevent a retaliatory attack on your people. Romans will not listen to woads."

Merlin nodded and paused in contemplation.

"I will do what I can." The British warriors moved away leaving Arthur stood in a field of bodies. This revelation was shocking. Not only had they been betrayed but the cavalry unit had been taken and killed by their own. Then they had attacked the fort. The well organised nature of this and the time it must have taken was astounding. He hoped Merlin would bring the leader back so they could root out all the participants; this obviously went deeper than one man and a few unit commanders. With a deep sigh he headed back to the fort to share the information and then to sit with Lancelot praying for his recovery. At the moment nothing else mattered.

OO


	25. Chapter 25

Authors notes: Thank you for the lovely reviews.  Enjoy!

OO 3 days later OO

Lancelot was still. To Arthur this was worse than the delirium; it was like death had already claimed his friend. His soul had fled and his body was slightly behind but would soon follow. The quiet allowed his overworked mind to continue producing all sorts of scenarios that could possible happen from the bad to the very worse. After working through a possibility that resulted in their bloody deaths he decided enough was enough. With a deep sigh he cleared his head and rose to his feet starting to pace backwards and forwards across the room which turned out to be ten paces in total. This went on for about five minutes before he grew bored and returned to his chair.

"What is so exciting that you would rather sleep than face the world?" he whispered as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the pallet.

"She had better be pretty." He smiled slightly but it quickly faded. Lancelot wasn't dreaming about a girl, he was suffering. The suffering was not something superficial that could be pressed into the background by the actions of a pretty girl. Death could and probably would result but even if he did survive the mental anguish would continue. Lancelot would not let it show, he was a man who let things stew beneath the surface while the smiling, cocky façade masked it. Granted Lancelot lost his temper but it was usually on trifling matters, deep and horrendous problems the knight would never allow to surface. Arthur knew they ate at him day after day. The longer the knight served or rather was enslaved by Rome the harder it became to see the real Lancelot. Arthur secretly worried that if any of them lived to see the fifteen years out the years following would be the more dangerous with nothing for them to focus their anger upon and they would have to look within at the men they were. Releasing a deep sigh he sat back.

Yesterday Arthur had seen the mark.

He had been lost for words. That single-handedly would cause the knight more pain than any sword or arrow wound could ever achieve. He had been branded a slave, something that the knight had been for many years but it was now boldly emblazoned across his skin for all to see long after his service was done, he would never escape it. Arthur had no idea what he could do and having talked to Crassus he knew it would never heal or even fade. A conversation he had with Jols had enabled him to see the depth to which Lancelot had already been affected by the mark. Arthur shuddered as he thought of Lancelot's determination to take the knife and cut it off. It scared him deeply. He knew that Lancelot would try it again and again until he succeeded even if it meant death. For a fraction of a second Arthur wondered if Lancelot never woke up would it be such a terrible thing. Was it only his selfish desires to have his friend by his side again that drove him to wish his friend awake? Would it be kinder to let him pass? As soon as these thoughts crossed his mind he damned himself to his god's hell for even entertaining the idea. Lancelot would deal with it with the help of everyone here, himself most certainly included. However, a small part of him still doubted.

The opening of the door announced the arrival of Crassus carrying a multitude of things that were precariously balanced in his arms. Arthur moved to help but the doctor shook his head slightly.

"Everything has its position." He murmured as if afraid that speaking too loud would send them crashing to the floor. Moving quickly he deposited them on the table and started making a new mixture of the healing paste.

"How is he?" Arthur asked the question for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Fine." Crassus…wait! Arthur was watching the man and his lips hadn't moved, now unless he had developed a staggeringly impressive ability to speak without moving his lips it meant…

Arthur turned so fast he stumbled. Lancelot had his eyes open and was staring at the pair. Crassus seemed to take it in his stride.

"How did I know that would be your first word?" he muttered as he moved to stand next to the pallet.

Lancelot didn't answer and turned his head to face the wall.

"Lancelot?" Arthur asked tentatively as he stepped closer. The knight remained silent.

"Doctor?" Arthur demanded.

"He has just woken; he is not going to be at his most talkative."

"Never stopped him before." Arthur commented before he could stop himself.

"He is awake." Lancelot muttered weakly and angrily.

Arthur was taken aback and froze for a moment. Crassus sensing this situation was about to deteriorate turned to face Arthur. The Roman looked lost.

"I have to change his bandages why don't you get some rest and have something to eat. It would appear that the antidote worked."

Arthur waited for Lancelot to acknowledge him further but it was to no avail. With a sigh he turned to leave shutting the door quietly behind him.

"Awake and grumpy then." Bors said from his position by Galahad's bed.

"He is awake but not talkative."

The three knights, minus Galahad who was sleeping and Tristan who was doing something else, couldn't have been more shocked if Arthur had said Lancelot had converted to Christianity and was planning to enter the church. Lancelot if it was possible was mouthier when he was wounded; normally so much so that many had wished him back into unconsciousness.

"Can we see him?" Gawain asked.

"I don't think it would be a good idea."

The knights exchanged concerned glances. Tristan chose this moment to enter the room.

"Merlin is back." He stated.

"Lancelot's awake and not talking." Dagonet shared their news. Tristan raised an eyebrow.

"Interesting." He commented.

"Well that's one view of it. Him being a bloody annoying shit is another." Bors groaned. "I need a drink."

Dagonet slapped him hard on the back. "You always need a drink."

"Galahad will be sleeping for a while lets go drinking." Bors said nudging Gawain.

"Sounds good but we have an annoying old woad to deal with first." Gawain pointed out. Bors cursed heartily.

"Well lets do it quickly then me and Vanora have a lot of time to make up. Dagonet needs to refresh his herding of bastards as well."

Dagonet frowned good-naturedly.

"So Merlin first then Lancelot…" Gawain said pulling himself to his feet.

Bors moaned. "We are never going to drink." Dagonet patted him on the back comfortingly as the knights followed Arthur out.

O

Crassus worked in silence watching Lancelot carefully. The knight seemed to be having trouble with nausea and he was swallowing harshly. He moved the bowl closer and was just in time as Lancelot threw up repeatedly. Crassus winced knowing that it was bound to be extremely painful to his other wounds. Merlin's potion was obviously purging the knight's system of the poison. The doctor rubbed Lancelot's back to try and offer some comfort which would have seemed out of place anywhere but there. As soon as he finished Lancelot groaned and curled back up.

"No no no. You need to lay down straight and keep still otherwise your wounds are going to reopen."

"Hurts." A very weak voice uttered and Crassus sighed.

"I know." He realised that for Lancelot to utter that word meant the knight was very ill. "But it will hurt worse if you stay like that."

Lancelot uncurled himself and lay panting on the pallet. Crassus moved to try and attend the wound for a second time when Lancelot lurched forward again.

"Diryn." Crassus cried. A small boy hurried into the room.

"I need water and lots of it. Also get Arthur here as soon as he is able." The boy shot off and Crassus quickly turned back to the knight. This could not continue the repeated vomiting was exhausting him. If that had been the only problem it wouldn't be as bad but with Lancelot's other wounds he was losing precious energy that he really couldn't afford to lose. He hoped Arthur would hurry for the prognosis was not good.

OO


	26. Chapter 26

Authors notes: Massive thanks to all my loyal and new reviewers! You are great! This will be my last post before my hols for just under 2 weeks. Off to a Canadian ranch I am! Hope you enjoy this!

OO

Arthur groaned as he caught sight of Merlin stood next to an obviously dead body. He felt the knights gather behind him and it gave him strength as he stepped out of the fort. With a signal the knights halted and allowed him to make the final few steps towards Merlin alone.

"One of the scouting parties killed him before they realised what he was and before I could stop them." Merlin said sounding very insincere. Arthur highly doubted that any other outcome would have been possible.

"More Romans are coming so you can understand why we will not remain."

Arthur rubbed his face tiredly. "This will not be good for you; you have killed your only chance at proving your innocence. I cannot protect you."

Merlin laughed. "We do not need your protection. We will be here long after the Romans are gone."

Arthur had no doubt of that.

"Do not take this as an act of friendship Arthur. The next time we meet I will not hesitate to kill you or your knights. This is our land and we will fight forever to see it returned to us."

"I highly doubt that my knights will do anything else."

"Does Lancelot still breathe?" Merlin inquired. The woad knew the answer before Arthur spoke by reading his eyes and face.

"He will live." The Roman said determinedly.

"Is that really up to you?"

With that said the old man turned and the woads disappeared back into the trees.

"I take it we are now in deep shit." Bors stated as he came to stand next to the body of a dead Roman centurion.

"Blame the woads." Gawain suggested.

"You mean lie." Arthur said.

Bors shrugged. "Bend the truth. They were involved and it saves us a whole world of trouble. Can you think of another good explanation?"

Arthur was exhausted and he realised that the truth would not save them in this instance. No one would believe the truth. Merlin had indicated that he knew what was going to happen.

"Fine. Pick him up. The reinforcements are on their way."

"ARTHUR, ARTHUR, ARTHUR!" a young voice cried running towards him. Arthur recognised the young boy as Diryn from the hospital. His heart skipped a beat and he broke into a run without even stopping to hear what the boy had to say. He charged through the forts occupants and straight into the hospital. Crassus jumped as he ploughed into the room barely stopping before he crashed into the pallet.

"What's wrong?" he gasped out resting his hands on his thighs, hunched over and trying to control his breathing while staring with unconcealed concern at Lancelot. The knight looked terrible and seemed to be writhing on the bed as if in great pain. How had he gone from being awake and seemingly better to this in the space of less than an hour?

"What the hell happened?" he demanded.

"His system is purging but his body is too weak to handle the repeated vomiting. His fever is also beginning to rise again."

Arthur blinked trying to take this in.

"You said it had broken! He was awake!" the Roman said in angry confusion.

"It did appear to be the case but for some reason he is weakening again." Crassus said sadly. Arthur rounded on the man.

"What kind of doctor are you to let this happen?" he shouted. Crassus didn't respond, he only returned Arthur's anguished glare calmly.

"You can't tell me that there is nothing we could have done. He is stubborn and will fight with everything he has got." Arthur said with desperate determination.

Crassus sighed. "What happens if he doesn't want to?" the doctor whispered unconsciously echoing Merlin.

"Of course he wants to. Get out…GET OUT!" he yelled furious at the doctor for suggesting something like that. Crassus did as he was asked and left, closing the door quietly behind himself. The other knights were all stood staring at him. He walked past them without saying a word. Arthur needed to calm down and Crassus needed to get more supplies.

O

Arthur took several shaky deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. He did not lose his temper like that often and as always guilt at his actions quickly replaced the anger.

"He's right." Lancelot uttered weakly his tired gaze firmly fixed on his friend. Arthur moved to sit on the chair next to the bed. As he got nearer he could hear Lancelot's laboured breathing and realised that he was indeed getting weaker.

"Who? Crassus?"

Lancelot nodded.

"About what?" Arthur whispered afraid of hearing the truth from Lancelot himself. Before he could argue that those who said it didn't know Lancelot as well as he did but all his arguments were about to be crushed resoundingly.

"Look!" Lancelot said with as much force as he could muster. The knight had lifted his arm showing the mark to Arthur. Arthur gently clasped the still shaking limb.

"It is a battle scar Lancelot. No one will look at you any differently." Arthur tried to reassure him.

"I look at myself differently and that is all that matters."

Lancelot rolled over suddenly and threw up. After he had finished he thumped the bed angrily. Tears of anguish flowed down his face.

"Its alright Lancelot." He tried to comfort him.

"It is not alright and you are a fool to believe it could be."

Arthur stood up and turned away struggling to control his emotions.

"I do not want to live Arthur."

"How can you wish for death?"

Lancelot gasped in pain and Arthur immediately turned to face the knight. The bandage on his chest was rapidly staining red and it was clear that he had torn the stitches. Forgetting the conversation for a minute he swiftly swept to his friend's side and eased him down. A sheen of sweat covered his skin and Arthur could feel the heat rising again. Suddenly Lancelot tensed and then let out an agonised scream. Arthur jumped backwards in shock and at the same time the door banged open admitting four very concerned knights.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Bors demanded. Arthur shook his head as Lancelot cried out again.

"I don't know. Crassus said he was purging the poison but Merlin's potion was weakening his body too much…maybe this is another symptom."

"Merlin?" Lancelot's voice cracked as he spoke.

"Aye Merlin gave us a supposed cure for that poison." Bors blurted out and both Dagonet and Arthur glared at him. Arthur turned back to Lancelot to see that he had a furious expression on his face.

"You gave me a potion from the woads for a poison given to me by woads." He ground out.

"Woads didn't poison you." Arthur said.

"Well there were woads with the Romans…" Bors got no further as an elbow collided with his stomach effectively winding the man. In between gasps for breath and curses he thumped Dagonet back.

Lancelot's expression had become confused.

"Why is nothing bloody simple…" he murmured to himself. Turning his attention back to Arthur his expression became angry again.

"Whatever the hell happened…" he swallowed angrily to stop the rising nausea again, he was not going to be stopped before he had had his say. Mind over matter he thought.

"Whatever the hell happened it still doesn't move away from the fact that you gave me a woad potion."

Lancelot was about to continue his tirade but unfortunately in this case it wasn't mind over matter and he was sick again. If he hadn't been feeling like he was going to throw up his internal organs he would have felt embarrassed to have his comrades see such weakness. Hands held him but his body decided enough was enough and lapsed into unconsciousness.

Arthur caught him and moved him to lay on his side so that he wouldn't choke.

"You and your bloody big mouth Bors." Gawain snapped at the large knight. Bors snapped right back.

"He had to find out some time and the longer you kept him in the dark the worse it would be. He is not a child and given his state lying to him is not a good way to improve his health."

Before anyone could comment on this Crassus returned.

"What has gone on in here? Everybody out!" he snapped. Arthur started to protest but the doctor cut him off.

"He needs his rest plus you have visitors and they don't look very happy."

OO


	27. Chapter 27

Authors notes: I am back…just. The plane I was on goinghome was turned around due to a mechanical failure…not good for a nervous flyer. Thank you to all my reviewers. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

OO

It was becoming a common event for Arthur to find himself walking towards the front gate with a feeling of foreboding deep within. Crassus, it seemed, had left out the fact that the visitors were an obviously disgruntled Roman chief centurion and his unit demanding to be allowed in. Pontius was currently trying to sort it out with what seemed like little apparent success. As he watched this he realised how much he had been neglecting Pontius and Plautius who had been busy trying to sort out the mess that the woads had left behind even though Arthur was technically in command. Licinius was in the hospital with a nasty sword wound to the thigh and he had yet to see him he thought guiltily.

For days Lancelot had been his whole world. His desperation to make the knight well had eroded all other concerns. A Roman officer should not allow his personal feelings to overcome his professional responsibilities. Lancelot wasn't the only one who needed his care and attention.

"Artorius Castus I presume." A voice sneered and Arthur looked up to see the leader of the unit, the chief centurion, addressing him with an attitude that clearly demonstrated that he thought himself to be vastly superior.

"Yes and you are?" he snapped not willing to start a verbal battle of wits and political manoeuvring. He wanted a simple and plain conversation but it appeared that this would not be granted to him.

"Chief centurion Marcellus, Commander of the 5th British unit of Roman Infantry." He said with all the pompous arrogance of a Roman senator. He was probably the son of one using the military to start his political career like so many do.

"We are here to sort out your woad problem." He said it with such certainty that Arthur almost laughed. He was glad Bors and the others were still in the hospital.

"Well as you can see we have accomplished this by ourselves but we are grateful to you for coming to our aid and you're welcome to come inside and make yourselves at home."

Marcellus paused clearly not expecting this.

"Where is commander Julio?" he demanded obviously wanting to take this higher than Arthur.

"He was killed." Arthur said watching Marcellus's expression at this news.

"I see…" Marcellus said slowly. "Can you then explain how this came to happen and why we have a number of Romans from other forts missing and all are somehow connected with you?"

"What?" Arthur demanded, his patience beginning to go.

"Centurion Licinius from the fort to the south and a detachment of lost cavalry you were sent to find. May I also presume that somehow Centurion Antoninus and some of his missing soldiers are also connected to you and the Sarmatians?"

'No you may not you pompous windbag…' Arthur found himself thinking and then decided he needed some sleep.

"It is a long story and seen as how it is extremely cold and you have travelled a long way I suggest we discuss it inside over the evening meal." Arthur said through gritted teeth. He was already trying to find means and ways to keep his knights out of the way or else Marcellus wouldn't be leaving here with all his limbs intact. While half his mind debated this issue the other half was focused upon what he would tell this Roman that would be a semi – believable lie. This was going to be a lot harder than he originally thought.

OO

Lancelot scowled at Crassus with all the hatred and bitterness at his current situation that he could muster. Unfortunately the doctor seemed only amused instead of deathly afraid for his continued well being.

"Young man, granted you are a master at those glares, but I must break it to you that I am immune to them considering that you reward me with one every time you are in my care, which need I remind you is far too often." The doctor said as he finished replacing the knight's bandages.

Bors coughed which sounded suspiciously like a muffled laugh. Lancelot thought this was so and moved his glare to the bulky knight who carefully resumed a blank expression although his eyes still twinkled much to Lancelot's annoyance.

"How are you feeling?" Gawain asked. The blonde knight was stood next to Galahad who had just gotten to his feet shakily a few hours ago and was now being watched like a hawk by Gawain.

"Fine." Lancelot grumbled in his usual fashion. Gawain rolled his eyes.

"You are a rubbish liar." The blonde knight responded. "We only want to help."

"Help me do what?"

"Get better, feel better…why is it such a problem for you to accept that?"

"Gawain." Dagonet said softly. Now was not the time for this argument to start.

"No!" Gawain snapped back. "He is always like this. We try and show concern for him and he throws it back in our faces. We have been here for over ten years and still he has this attitude." The knight was furious, not only at Lancelot but at themselves. Somehow after all they've been through Lancelot for some reason still didn't trust them enough and they didn't know enough about him to ever help him. They had accepted long ago that Lancelot was guarded. He didn't share feelings and to a great extent neither did they but Lancelot took it to the extreme. Gawain didn't want him or expect him to radically change but it might be helpful to both them and Lancelot if he let them in more. Maybe it would prevent him from being as self – destructive as he sometimes became. There was so few of them left he didn't want Lancelot to throw his life away.

"What do you want me to say?" Lancelot whispered. "Bare my soul. How is that going to help?"

Gawain was about to snap back at him but he stopped himself when he realised that Lancelot was being honest, he honestly wanted to know how it would help.

Crassus took this as the time to excuse himself leaving the brotherhood of knights alone.

"It is not going to help. I am here to kill, why do killing machines need to have feelings; they destroyedmost of them during training. Why does anyone care?" His brutal honesty hit hard.

"Its what keeps us alive, its what keeps us going…" Gawain said sitting down on Lancelot's pallet. Lancelot smiled at him, a sad smile that one would give to a naïve child who hadn't yet learnt the harsh realities of life.

"For you maybe and Galahad that is how it is but not for me. We are not normal, we kill for a living. There is very little difference between us and murderers who would kill a man for his horse, this is their home and we would do the same in their place. We are slaves and all we know is how to kill well. No one cares how we feel. Do you think the Romans ask about our feelings? We are just filthy Sarmatians to them. And at home do you think they will welcome us with open arms when we return? Do you think they think about us? My sister probably can't remember what I look like. I have seen what happens in my village when knights return…" Lancelot faded off as the sleeping potion began to take effect.

"They don't want…want a bitter…figure who only knows killing in the village…" By the end of the sentence Lancelot was barely whispering, his eyes were closed and in the next minute he was asleep.

The room was left in silence continued, each knight in shock after hearing from the normally guarded Lancelot a frank and brutally honest expression of feelings. No one knew quite what to make of it or the words spoken.

"I need a drink." Bors exclaimed and this time no one disagreed with him.

"I will stay." Tristan said taking his place on the chair next to the bed. No one questioned him and they left. Tristan took out a long strip of leather and his knife which he began working all the while keeping an eye on the sleeping knight.

OO


	28. Chapter 28

Authors notes: Thank you for all the reviews. Hope you enjoy this…

OO

Lancelot slowly came back to awareness and his senses instantly picked up that someone was sat next to him. Opening his eyes was hard as the darkness was so appealing, he didn't have to think about his life and the state of it. Sweet oblivion. He needed a drink or something to numb all this. Perhaps if it wasn't Arthur he could get the person to get him some ale… I bloody hope it is not Crassus.

He cracked his eyes open and saw Tristan carving something into a strip of leather.

"Four hours." The scout said without looking up from his work. Lancelot's head hurt and it hurt worse as he tried to figure out what Tristan had said.

"What?" he whispered hoarsely.

"You were unconscious for four hours. I'd thought I would pre-empt your inevitable question." Tristan's mouth curled in a slight smile.

Lancelot coughed harshly and moaned. Apparently his body had purged his system but he was still so weak and in pain. He felt hands grab at his shoulders and a cup placed at lips.

"Drink. Slowly." Tristan commanded softly. That's all I can bloody do Lancelot thought annoyed at his weakness.

Tristan laid him back down and he picked up the knife and leather again.

"Arthur?"

"Dealing with some Romans."

"Why are you here?"

"Didn't want to drink."

It became quiet again. Lancelot shifted slightly to try and move his limbs. He was getting sore, well sorer than he already was. Luckily his body was exhausted from those few words and he fell back asleep.

-

It was dark when he next awoke and Tristan was only visible in a shadowed form by the flickering of a candle.

"Got nothing better to do?" he croaked. Tristan shrugged.

"It's raining."

Lancelot smiled. Rain never bothered Tristan before…probably too many Romans about. He watched as the scout continued working the leather.

"What is it?" he asked after a few minutes. Granted he was happy that no one was asking how he felt but it was boring just lying there.

"Freedom."

The knight frowned in confusion but let the questioning drop. Tristan could never be forced to reveal anything until the time came that he wanted to. With a sigh he lifted his arm and contemplated the scar. It was too dark to see it properly but he could still trace the raised skin. Frustrated tears welled and he bit his lip hard to prevent a sound from emerging. He swallowed convulsively to try and dislodge the lump that had formed in his throat.

Overwhelming relief at the fact that Tristan was there swept through him. He would not ask questions, what was wrong? How did he feel? This emotion was replaced by anger at himself. He had cried or been on the verge of tears more times in the past few days than he had been for many many years, in fact since he had trained and even then he did it when he was alone.

"You don't have to stay here." He whispered at Tristan hoping that his weakness of mind was not transmitted through his voice.

"It is raining." The scout replied.

"Where are the others?"

"Drinking."

"So I drove them to drink?" he murmured and sighed again.

"They don't need encouragement."

A flash from the blade of Tristan's knife caught his attention. He watched closely as the scout scratched a design on the leathers surface. Lancelot found himself thinking that it was his skin and the scar. His fingers dug into his flesh until it bled. He needed the knife.

"Is there anything to eat?" he asked. Tristan froze.

"Not here." The scout didn't look at him but Lancelot knew Tristan realised what he was asking of him.

"I'm hungry."

Tristan placed the leather down on the table next to Lancelot's head carefully.

"Jols or Vanora will bring you something." He replied and he watched Lancelot's reaction. He knew the knight wanted his knife, Lancelot had been watching him too closely for it to be of only casual interest.

"Can you get me something?"

Tristan was torn. Lancelot's intention was clear to him and it was up to him to decide his fate. If it was him he wouldn't have waited so long but Lancelot was not like him. Arthur and the others would not be happy if he did as he was being requested but he was not here to please anyone and they clearly didn't understand either of them as they had been left alone. Arthur hadn't realised the depth of Lancelot's feelings, Arthur had misjudged the knight and he was the one who supposedly knew him the best. He didn't. Lancelot talked to him and Arthur talked back but if Arthur thought that meant he was close to Lancelot he was a fool. They all did what they had to do to survive, adapt their personality and hide their true face. Lancelot was right; the Romans cared little for them except how many and how quickly they could kill. When that is all that is expected of you after a while that is all that you give. Tristan would never return home and neither would Lancelot; it would taint their memories for nothing could ever be how they dreamed it would be and why ruin the one good they had left.

Tristan fingered his knife and twirled it in his hand watching the play of light across its surface. Raising his eyes he met the brown of Lancelot's and handed him the knife.

"I shall go and see what Vanora has."

"Thank you." Tristan held Lancelot's gaze and saw the gratitude within them. As the scout rose he picked up the piece of leather and handed it to the knight. Lancelot grasped it and for a brief moment their hand's touched. Again their eyes met.

"You are not tainted or weak. You are Lancelot a knight of Sarmatia and no one will ever change that. I hope you find the peace you seek."

Tristan was out of the room before Lancelot could even begin to form a reply. Gripping the knife securely he struggled into a sitting position. He took two deep breaths and held the knife over the scar. Just as he pressed down he saw the design on Tristan's gift. A horse and hawk with the Sarmatian word for freedom. The leather was just the right shape and width to be secured around his wrist covering the scar. For a moment he released the pressure on the knife and then dropped it onto the floor listening to the clank as it echoed through the room.

"Coward" he whispered bitterly and the tears flowed unimpeded.

When Tristan returned to the room twenty minutes later with a plate of food he saw Lancelot was facing the wall, his knife on the floor. From the irregular rising and falling of Lancelot's back he could tell the knight was not dead or even sleeping. For most people at that moment they would have been overwhelmed with joy but not Tristan. He regretted giving Lancelot the gift. It probably only postponed the knight's decision, Lancelot would find another way, another time, another reason. The issue had not been resolved here. Christianity said that the taking of ones own life was a sin and Arthur would have struggled with the fact had Lancelot done it. Maybe Lancelot was thinking of Arthur, a man who found guilt in almost every action he undertook. However, this was probably not the case in this circumstance and Lancelot had not been thinking about anyone else but himself. Tristan could think up all sorts of scenarios in an attempt to explain what had happened in this room but none would be the right one. This was known to Lancelot alone. Maybe the knight had not wanted to die and when faced with the decision he baulked but that would imply cowardice and fear of death something which he knew Lancelot could not be accused of. Maybe it was the manner of the death, in a dark room all alone when Sarmatian knights were taught to want a glorious death on the field of battle. Perhaps that is what Lancelot wanted and would try and achieve.

With a shrug of his shoulders he sat back down, picked up the knife, wiped off the thin sliver of blood showing how close Lancelot had come and began peeling an apple. Whatever the reason it was not for him to dwell on.

The door banged open to admit the rest of their comrades obviously a bit worse for wear shattering the sombre, depressive mood.

"LANCELOT!" Bors roared. "We brought ale and dice. Fancy a game."

Tristan watched as Lancelot seemed to take a deep breath and he turned his ever ready smirk plastered across his features.

"Looking to lose are we?" he said cockily as he drew himself up looking almost like the old Lancelot but when Tristan caught his eyes he saw the barely concealed angst and shame which the others were either too drunk or unaware of to notice. Lancelot spoke the truth when he said no one knew him and only because Tristan watched could he see a fraction of the man that Lancelot was. As the knights settled down to play, laughing uproariously at something Lancelot had said, Tristan rose to his feet and placed his knife on the table. Lancelot saw the move and looked straight at him. He was still laughing but his eyes swirled with too many emotions for Tristan to name. They held the gaze for a few brief seconds. Then as if making a secret pact they nodded. They would not utter a word as to what happened in this room this night.

Tristan left shutting the door behind him and saw Arthur stood outside. Arthur looked exhausted but scanned him with a deep penetrating gaze and at that moment Tristan realised that Arthur knew everything. The Roman sighed, closed his eyes, took one last look at the closed door from where raucous sounds continued to emerge and turned away. He strode away into the night leaving Tristan with nothing to do but do the same.

OO


	29. Chapter 29

Authors notes: Many thanks for the reviews, as usual they are extremely appreciated.

OO

Arthur took a long sip of his wine and placed the goblet back on the table. The sound of that simple action travelled throughout the silent room which was quite amazing considering the number of people occupying it at the present moment. Pontius and Plautius were sat either side of him, Crassus and Jols next to them and the rest of the places on the table were taken up Marcellus and his men.

"Is the meat satisfactory?" he asked as the silence wore on. After a few seconds of clinking cutlery Marcellus responded.

"It is fine but let's cut the pleasantries." The young man sneered setting down his knife and fork and turning to face Arthur.

"How was Commander Julio killed?"

"Woads." Arthur replied. He planned on being as deliberately obtuse as possible as he tried to think of a plan. This was not how he liked to face a situation with no plan of how to finish it. Lancelot would have laughed and said just go with it; kill anyone who stood in the way and hope for the best.

"So did they just walk in here and kill him?" Marcellus asked sarcastically.

"No."

"I am not known as a man of great patience and unless you want me to arrest you explain in detail what the hell went on."

Arthur slammed down his own cutlery.

"Don't you dare threaten me. I am in command of this base and you should treat me with the respect that demands."

Marcellus turned an interesting shade of purple.

"What did happen then Commander?"

Arthur related the events leading up to their discovery of the woads deception. Marcellus rose to his feet his chair scraping across the stone.

"You were deceived by woads?" he said condescendingly.

"We were all deceived."

"Easily it would appear. What I can't understand is the cause of all this? You embarked on a mission purely because of an arrow and a wounded knight."

"No because of the implications."

"WHAT IMPLICATIONS? As far as I can see your actions have brought about many many casualties." Marcellus roared infuriated. "Romans have died needlessly."

Arthur felt his anger rise at the limited nature of this man's understanding of the greater scheme of things.

"Does the fact that Woads were using Roman arrows not concern you? Does the fact that there was a missing cavalry unit mean nothing to you? Questions needed to be answered."

"The cavalry unit was declared missing presumed dead. They had been missing too long for them to still be alive. You wasted too many lives in pursuit of the dead."

Arthur rose to his feet as well. Marcellus's men did the same but he halted them with a hand.

"So some Romans are condemnable and others are not?"

"You are a commander you know full well losses are inevitable for the greater good."

"Who's greater good? We found the missing cavalry unit."

"So where are they?" Marcellus snapped. "All that for nothing because they are dead. While you were out gallivanting on a wild goose chase this fort was attacked."

Arthur bowed his head; he had gone over this many times in his head. He had made a mistake and they have suffered greatly for it.

"So what happened in your absence?" Marcellus demanded of Plautius who stared back daring the man to talk to him as he had Arthur. Lancelot appeared to be rubbing off on the roman and Arthur didn't know whether to be amazed that Lancelot had time for any other Roman other than him or be concerned that he was influencing others.

Plautius sighed and explained how Julio had gone out to face them.

"You retreated inside and did what?"

"Waited for Arthur to return as there was nothing else to do."

Marcellus began to pace as he struggled to comprehend all the details. This situation was like nothing he had had to deal with before.

"Did reinforcements arrive before Arthur?"

"No." Plautius answered glancing at Arthur. They knew what was about to be asked.

"So if Centurion Antoninus wasn't with Arthur and he didn't arrive before how on earth did he and his missing men get here?" Marcellus looked smug as he realised that he could have hit on a problem that could cause Arthur trouble.

Plautius decided he would take the decision away from Arthur.

"I didn't say that Centurion Antoninus did not arrive earlier than Arthur I just said that no reinforcements arrived before him."

Both Arthur and Marcellus looked confused but Arthur quickly hid it.

"What?" Marcellus demanded.

"Centurion Antoninus arrived hours after Arthur left. He said that he and his soldiers were ambushed on a patrol and since then he had been struggling south to make it to a fort."

"There are many forts between his and this one." Marcellus pointed out sceptical.

"It depends where he was when attacked." Arthur contributed which was answered with a glower from the Roman.

"Of course and how come this is not recorded in the logs of Commander Julio?"

Plautius shrugged. "I am not privy to Commander Julio's record keeping and we were slightly busy."

Marcellus frowned. "Do you have witnesses?"

"Are you accusing me of lying?" Plautius said raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms.

"However if you desperately need witnesses Jols here saw them and Crassus saw to their wounded. Lancelot saw them but I am doubtful any of the natives did as it was rather late and they did not go near the civilian areas." Plautius continued lying making sure he named people who would lie without question. Marcellus looked as though he thought they might be lying but he had no way to prove it.

"I have another matter to address which concerns you Arthur. Lancelot is one of your Sarmatian knights is he not?" he asked Arthur. The roman nodded warily.

"I am afraid he will have to be arrested."

"WHAT! WHAT!" Arthur and Plautius yelled. Crassus and Jols were also on their feet.

"I have been reading Commander Julio's report and it was his recommendation."

Before Arthur had time to respond Plautius had strode towards the man.

"On what grounds? If it wasn't for him everyone here would have died and therefore you wouldn't be having this conversation."

"That is not for me to determine. Commander Julio said he had committed gross insubordination and had struck an officer. The penalty for that is imprisonment and death." Marcellus stated clearly enjoying the distress he had caused.

"There were extenuating circumstances." Plautius said.

"Even if he was a Roman, which he is not, there is no excuse. You know the penalty for striking a senior officer is death."

Arthur was too shocked for words. He had never anticipated this.

"There is no way you are moving him from the hospital. He was terribly wounded and suffered from severe poisoning." Crassus spoke up for the first time.

Marcellus looked like he had bitten a lemon.

"Fine he will remain under guard until he is well enough to be moved."

"No." Arthur said quietly. Marcellus whirled around to face him.

"Pardon me?"

"No. You came here to provide aid not to take command therefore you cannot order anything. I thank you for coming to help us but your presence is no longer required or welcomed. Please leave."

The Roman's gaze turned murderous. "Do not play games with me Castus you will not win."

"I don't have to. I will send a full report on what has occurred with all witnesses as soon as possible. As for Lancelot I shall find out what exactly happened and act accordingly."

"Don't make me laugh you are his commander. You will not condemn him to death."

"There has been too much killing. Unless it is found to be without provocation and with extreme violence then a prison term will be sufficient…Now would you be so kind as to leave."

Marcellus soured even further. "Fine but this is not the end. There will be an inquiry."

Arthur crossed his arms clearly indicating that this conversation and the threats would go no further. Marcellus brushed past him on his way out.

"Pontius make sure they all leave without causing trouble." The centurion nodded and left. As the door closed deep breaths were let out by all present.

"Thank you Plautius but you will be in trouble if the truth ever gets out." Arthur said softly. The roman turned to face him and smirked.

"I have my own contacts Arthur. Who questions me will be a fool." With that said the roman left and Arthur resembled for a brief moment a fish out of water.

"Looks like Lancelot is attempting to model others on himself and it seems to be working." Jols said laughingly.

"Dear God." Arthur and Crassus said simultaneously.

Arthur closed his eyes wearily and exited the dining hall into the cold air of the outside world. He heard loud laughter from the hospital and made his way over there. As he approached Lancelot's room he saw Tristan exit. Both of them froze and regarded each other. Even though Tristan said nothing for once his eyes were an open book and Arthur knew that despite the sounds Lancelot was not well, far from it. The brief elation he had felt from the meeting faded to be replaced with grief. It was so overwhelming he turned and retreated. He needed to be alone to try and work out how to help his friend. Without realising it he found himself within the small chapel. It was empty. Walking to the front he knelt and he began to pray, pray that somehow Lancelot would have his suffering alleviated and that his soul would heal.

He prayed long into the night.


	30. Chapter 30

Authors notes: Thank you for the reviews! Enjoy!

OO

"No visitors allowed." Crassus said with a look that promised trouble if anyone went against his order.

"Has he gotten worse?" Arthur questioned concerned.

"No he still has a slight fever but he has to get some rest. The visit by the other knights last night tired him out more than he will admit."

Arthur frowned.

"I think the others are paying for it too. Tristan was the only one at breakfast."

"It would not surprise me…Have you got a minute for a talk Arthur?" he questioned. Arthur thought over the multitude of things that needed his attention but nothing appealed to him and he just couldn't be bothered.

"Not really as I am not in the mood for paperwork." He indicated that the doctor could lead on. Crassus led him to his office.

His office was a small room with a narrow window that let in a thin sliver of sunshine. Various medical books were piled on every available surface along with a few instruments that Arthur couldn't give a function to.

Crassus poured two glasses of water and handed one to Arthur.

"How is Lancelot really?" Arthur asked.

"He is still extremely weak and in need of plenty of fluids but I think he is past the worst of it. However it will take months for him to anywhere near his usual physical fitness. That will be compounded by the fact that he will not take to being inactive well."

Arthur nodded and then he came to asking the question he feared the answer to most.

"How is his state of mind?"

Crassus sighed and rubbed his eyes. "That is my main concern. That bloody mark!" he muttered bitterly. Arthur agreed surprised at the level of concern Crassus showed. Somehow Lancelot had managed to endear himself to the doctor. 'Well' he mused 'They have spent enough time together, either they would become friends or kill each other' he supposed.

"He could survive almost anything but that."

"It represents everything that he hates about his life. Not only is he a slave to Rome but now he has been marked by the woads. It has had a devastating impact."

Arthur absorbed the doctor's words.

"Would…would he take his own life?" the roman stuttered watching Crassus intensely.

"Do I need to answer that? I have already told you what happened before you arrived. Lancelot feels everything deeply and it is highly unlikely that anything has changed since the incident with Jols."

"Something happened with Tristan last night." Arthur said tiredly.

"Really?" Crassus said curiously.

"I could tell when Tristan left. I have a disturbing idea as to what happened."

"He has a mark on his wrist that wasn't there yesterday." Crassus whispered and Arthur closed his eyes his breath coming in shuddering gasps as if on the verge of tears.

"Merciful God."

"The fact that he stopped can only fill us with hope. Although I am sure his state of mind hasn't improved, if the knights' weren't so drunk last night they would have seen his whole charade." Crassus stated.

"They know." Arthur said. "I don't think Lancelot is alone in his thinking."

"Probably not." Crassus said looking at Arthur's defeated face. He didn't envy the man, commanding a group of slaves of Rome.

"The mission was tough Arthur they need time to solve it in their own ways be it joking, sparing or drinking or all three. They are not going to confess their souls and mend just by doing it." Crassus explained. "They are never going to be completely adjusted after the horrors they have experienced. We can't expect them to keep bouncing back. We cannot control their lives and force them to be well."

"When can I see Lancelot?" Arthur questioned needing to see his friend.

"This afternoon. He was still asleep when I last checked him."

Arthur rose to his feet slowly. "I guess I have that report to write and it unfortunately is not going to write itself."

Crassus rose as well. "One more question Arthur. What Marcellus said about arresting Lancelot you are not going to do that are you?"

"I will talk to Plautius and Lancelot first but I can't be seen to be soft. We have already lied enough. Of course death isn't an option but I suppose getting him into prison wouldn't be an easy option either. I don't know… nothing with him is ever simple."

O

The cup smashed across the floor and its descent was followed by a number of Sarmatian curses. Lancelot paused in his movements and tensed waiting for the imminent descending of Crassus or one of his minions. Luckily for whatever reason no one was forthcoming and he continued in his actions.

'It is amazing' he thought 'how someone takes walking so much for granted'

Having woken up feeling relatively okay…well not like someone who was two steps from deaths door he decided that now was the time to get back on his feet. Sharing this information with anyone else would have met with immediate denial and then someone watching him closely so he had therefore decided not to share this revelation. So after pretending to go to sleep he waited until the room was empty before embarking on his little mission. Never one to admit defeat he had had several attempts at sitting upright with his feet over the side of the pallet when a little voice in his head, probably the voice of reason, announced that this wasn't the smartest idea he had ever had. That was promptly violently quashed by the other voice in his head which concerned his pride.

All of this led to his current situation which was stood clutching a table with a white knuckled grip half way across the room with his knees about to give way. He hoped that no one walked in now as it wasn't his best moment. Sweat was pouring down his face and he felt worse than when he woke up.

"Hmm it seems that I have come into some money again." Tristan's voice startled him and his hand slipped. He would have hit the floor if Tristan hadn't caught him. Furiously embarrassed Lancelot attempted to rise to his feet but his body betrayed him and he fell back down.

"Damn it…bloody damn it!" he snapped.

Tristan quickly hauled him up and deposited him on the bed without spending more time than necessary fussing over him to try and spare Lancelot further embarrassment.

"You are lucky that it was me. Crassus would have had you strapped to the bed."

"He can if he wants an injury."

"Who says he will be doing it alone?"

Lancelot huffed and laid back down.

"Have you been betting on me?" he queried coming back to Tristan's first words.

"Yes. Bors is not going to be happy. He was convinced he had it this time." A faint smile which made it to Tristan's eyes caused Lancelot to return it.

"What is happening out there?"

Tristan shrugged. Lancelot frowned at the lack of response.

"You can't tell me that nothing has happened. This room is not soundproof I could clearly hear some stuck up roman out in the courtyard mouthing off."

"They have left. Arthur told them to go or else."

Lancelot raised an eyebrow.

"Or else? What the hell did he say?"

"He wanted to arrest you for insubordination and assault of an officer. Arthur told him no."

Lancelot liked the way Tristan was always so direct the others would have minced around the subject until Lancelot was either too confused to understand anything, bored or annoyed. Usually all three.

"So the bastard recorded it before he died. So prison is it?"

"I doubt Arthur will put you in prison." Tristan said as he sat down.

"The penalty is death for striking an officer. Arthur won't do that unless I have done something to piss him off monumentally but he will be seen as soft if he doesn't do something. Prison it will be." Lancelot seemed unconcerned but Tristan knew different. Prison was not nice especially if Sarmatian especially when Lancelot would have to be transferred out of the fort.

"Who did you hit?"

"No idea. Does it matter? No one expects less of me!"

Tristan shook his head at Lancelot's opinion of himself which was part of the whole problem that had been exposed over the past few days.

"Why?" the scout wanted to hear Lancelot's true reason.

"He annoyed me, deserved it." Lancelot said dismissively. Tristan stared at him. Time passed slowly as the two glared.

"What?"

"Why?"

"I already told you. I have never needed a reason before." The knight was becoming exasperated as he grew increasingly tired.

"Why?"

"Oh for crying out loud he was hassling Vanora and all the bastards…but really who needs a reason to hit a roman."

Shaking his head the knight tilted his chair back and settled back to rest as he watched Lancelot drift off. This information was interesting but Tristan was not going to speak of it again unless Lancelot asked him too. It was the knight's job to explain his reasons. However Tristan was not about to let Lancelot be imprisoned and neither would the others, they defend their own and Arthur knew it.

OO


	31. Chapter 31

Authors notes: Thank you for the reviews!

OO

(2 days later)

Lancelot stood in front of Arthur having just explained all that he could remember of the past events. Arthur was scribbling something down and hadn't said anything since he finished.

"The Roman centurion Marcellus wanted you executed." Arthur spoke at last. Lancelot shrugged.

"He probably won't be the last and he is not the first."

The casual way he said this made Arthur incensed for reasons he couldn't fathom.

"What do you expect me to do about it?" he asked.

Lancelot smirked. "Depends if I have done anything to piss you off recently? I'll make sure to watch my back around you in the future."

Arthur was on his feet in an instant.

"What is your problem!" he shouted. "How can you speak so casually about your life like that?"

Despite his injuries Lancelot drew himself to his full height and snarled back.

"Because that is how it is. No one cares Arthur!"

"I care, the others care. Stop being so selfish and listen to us."

"SELFISH! I am being selfish? How can I be selfish where nothing is mine not even my actions?"

"Lancelot please…" Arthur begged. "Why are you doing this?"

The knight shook his head and ran a tired hand through his hair in frustration.

"Because this is how it is. Your Rome does not exist here Arthur and it never will. We are considered slaves so why should I give a damn?"

Arthur shook his head. This conversation was degenerating into the same arguments that they always had and it was not what he had wanted.

"Lets not get started on this again. This is not what I wanted to talk about."

"So what did you want to talk about then?" the knight snapped challengingly.

Arthur slumped back into his chair looking older than his years.

"Why is everything so difficult with you? Not everyone is against you."

Lancelot turned and left making sure to slam the door behind himself.

O

Lancelot was furious at himself, at Arthur and at the world in general. That conversation couldn't have gone much worse. He had gone in with the intention to explain himself and sort the mess out about his punching of an officer. However his temper and Arthur's continuation of his belief that the world's ills could be sorted out by himself alone had meant the quick end of that.

His body was pulsing with tension and anguish. He needed to get out of this fort and the constant attention that he was receiving. He entered the stables and quickly moved to say hello to Scimitar. His horse poked his head over the stall door and whickered in greeting.

"Hi there. How are we today?"

Scimitar let loose a whinny and stamped his hoof indicating his desire to get out.

"You too huh? How about a ride?"

The horse shook his head and snorted in agreement. Lancelot quickly fetched Scimitar's saddle and bride. The bride was easy enough but the saddle was difficult. His barely healed injuries stretched and strained. Refusing to heed the warnings his body gave he managed after a good few minutes to secure it in place. Leading Scimitar over to a bale of hay he used it as a mounting block.

Nudging the horse out into a yard he moved as quickly as he could without causing lots of pain but he also hoped without being noticed.

Luckily for him a supply train of wagons had just arrived so the gates were open and he was able to slip through the crowds and out. Scimitar immediately leapt into a gallop but Lancelot slowed him down to a gentle canter. However even this pace was painful and as soon as he was out of sight he would slow to walk not only for himself but Scimitar as well who was still stiff in his injured leg.

It didn't take long for him to be out of sight and he slowed his stallion. He knew of a small pool nearby where he could sit in peace.

That didn't last long. He had just settled down when a familiar white mare ambled into the clearing. Tristan.

"Give me strength!" he exclaimed as he rose to his feet. Tristan didn't look at him as he dismounted.

"Did you just happen to pass by?"

"No I saw you leave and followed." Tristan said in a matter of fact fashion. "And the others are just behind me."

"I am going to drown myself." Lancelot muttered.

"Don't let me stop you." Tristan responded and Lancelot slumped back to the ground picking a few stones and lobbing them into the pond. Within minutes the clearing was full of knights. Lancelot paid little attention to them but after a period of silence which was extremely unusual he turned to find they were all watching him.

"Is there a problem?" he inquired. "Do I have something in my hair?"

Bors walked over and ruffled his hair.

"No not that I can see."

"Why thank you Bors. So what the bloody hell do you want?"

The knights all looked at each other and Gawain withdrew his sword and charged at Lancelot. The knight was so startled he stepped backwards and fell into the water. Launching out of the water Lancelot prepared to throttle the man when a sword nearly cut off his nose.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he snapped angrily moving out of the way.

"Fight me." Gawain retorted.

"No! Now stop it!"

Gawain again slashed with his sword and Lancelot as a last resort withdrew his two swords and blocked the swing.

Lancelot than had to block Galahad's sword. Stumbling backwards he turned a confused and angry expression on the pair.

"Would someone care to explain?" he said through gritted teeth. This was the last thing he needed with his injuries.

"Just want to prove something." Tristan's voice floated over to him as Lancelot used both his swords to block Gawain's and Galahad's thrusts.

"That you are idiots? Drunk?"

"No"

Letting loose some crude words about parentage of the various knights he lunged forward quickly and effectively disarming both knights who looked stunned. Lancelot smirked, twirled his swords in his hands and then re-sheathed them.

"Now explain!" he demanded.

"We wanted to show you that you are not weak." Tristan stated. Lancelot let his mouth drop open in shock.

"WHAT?" he spluttered.

"You were able to defeat two knights while wounded. You are stronger probably than all of us here. The woads may have tortured you but they did not defeat you."

Lancelot's face became furious and he turned to grab his horse.

"Lancelot!" Gawain called but the knight paid him no attention. He mounted his fury overcoming the pain. Bors jumped forward and grabbed his reins.

"Let go." He commanded but Bors held on.

"No you are going to listen to us. Get off the horse Lancelot or else I will drag you down. Your choice."

OO


	32. Chapter 32

Authors notes: Many thanks to all my reviewers. Special thanks to Cardeia for the two points you brought up! My word history is not that good but thanks for pointing it out and I will remember it in future writings. Another good point about the swords which when I re-read the chapter is suddenly amazingly obvious…Thank you for taking the time to write the review and it is much appreciated. The next chapter will have a slight delay due to my graduation but it will wing its way along shortly. Without further ado…enjoy!

OO

Lancelot choked as emotions whirled within him. He pleaded with his eyes…please Bors please just let me go. Bors shook his head and again indicated he should dismount. Lancelot resigned himself and was about to dismount when Scimitar reared up. The stallion could sense his masters growing distress and was attempting to distance himself from the danger it perceived. Bors let go and then darted forward to try and catch Lancelot who had unbalanced and was falling. He was too slow and the knight hit the ground. Immediately the knights jumped forward to try and get Scimitar away from the grounded man. The stallion however moved away instinctively avoiding crushing his master.

Tristan grabbed his reins and set about soothing the animal. Scimitar rolled his eyes and pranced nervously but he was calmer.

Bors dropped to his knees beside Lancelot. The younger man had rolled onto his side away from him and struggled to his feet. Bors reached out to try and steady him.

"Don't touch me. Get away from me. All of you just leave me alone." He said distressed moving away with his arms raised. Bors looked doubtfully at Tristan. Had they pushed too far and too hard?

"We want to help you. You are our friend and you are suffering." Gawain said moving forward his face a picture of concern.

"And? Are you worried that I won't have your back in a fight?"

"Of course not. We all trust you with our lives and nothing that has happened has changed that."

Lancelot looked at them all. He was not prepared for this and with that in mind he sat back down to wait in silence for them to give up.

"Fine this is not working." Gawain said as the others gathered together.

"It was expected." Tristan replied. Bors threw up his arms.

"Then why are we bothering?" he exclaimed.

"Just leave him be. He has suffered before and probably will do again. He is tough he just needs us to stop hassling him." Dagonet said softly.

"He tried to kill himself." Galahad blurted out.

"So?" Dagonet continued. "He wouldn't be the first to attempt it nor to succeed. Yvain killed himself. Others probably have in battle, charging into the enemy without moving to defend themselves. You can't tell me that some of you haven't thought of it. Lancelot had a moment of doubt and that was it. He won't try it again and he is not any weaker for it. He just needs to realise this by himself."

"How can you be sure?" Gawain demanded.

"Because we would have arrived here to see him with a knife but we didn't."

"How does that mean he won't try again?" the knight continued.

Dagonet sighed at the younger knight.

"He has tried it before." Galahad stated and before he knew Tristan had grabbed him.

"Shut up about things you know nothing about. That is not relevant to this situation."

"Leave him alone." Gawain snapped moving forward to drag Tristan off Galahad.

"He should learn when to speak and when to keep silent."

"And who are you to tell us what to do?"

"Someone with more common sense apparently."

Gawain raised his fist about to strike the scout when a hand grabbed it. It was Lancelot.

"STOP IT!" he yelled. "I will not have you fighting over me."

The knights all stepped backwards giving each other space. Lancelot stared at them furiously in turn.

"This ends here and now otherwise there is no point in the woads trying to kill us because we will do it for them. I can handle this myself. I am not going to self destruct. I will endure and so will you."

"Fine but we want some answers. We are not going to judge but we want to understand." Gawain stated and Lancelot nodded tiredly.

"What do you want to know?"

O

"It's noon, I am supposed to be on patrol as of an hour ago and in a fort as small as ours no one has managed to locate any of my knights even one that should have been in the hospital, have I got this correct?" Arthur spoke slowly and deliberately to the squire in front of him. The man looked like he wished the ground to open and swallow him.

"Yes sir." He said nervously.

"Has anyone checked the stables for their horses?"

"Um…yes sir."

"And were they in there?" he questioned. It was like drawing Bors away from the Tavern, very slow going with patience slowly evaporating with each word spoken.

"No the knights weren't there."

Arthur released a slow deep breath. Dear God please speed up Jol's recovery.

"No were their horses there?"

"Oh no sir."

"So its safe to assume that they are not in the fort."

"Um…yes sir."

"Right. When did the supply wagon arrive?"

"About an hour ago sir."

"I imagine they left then. Fine, send Centurion Plautius to me at once."

The man nodded and left. He wasn't particularly concerned that the knights were gone. They had done it before when things had been difficult and although it hurt slightly that he wasn't included he understood. He was their commander and was not Sarmatian. Most commanders wouldn't stand for it but Arthur had let them continue on with their traditions as long as it didn't interfere with the running of the fort or go against strict roman policy.

He knew they would return eventually.

A knock on the door heralded the arrival of Plautius.

"Come in."

Plautius strode in and closed the door.

"Does your wanting to see me have anything to do with six missing knights and a patrol that is not patrolling?"

Arthur chuckled.

"How remarkable it actually does." He commented acting surprised.

"And you would like me to assemble some men and conduct the patrol myself?"

"That's an amazing ability you have."

"Thank you."

"So where did they go?"

Arthur shrugged. "One learns not to ask. They like to get away from the fort and us Romans."

"Sometimes I wish the same." Plautius laughed. Arthur joined him.

"Well I better go and assemble the masses. I am sure it will take a bit of doing as when they are off duty they successfully manage to spread themselves across the entire fort."

O

Merlin stood watching the approaching Roman detachment. It seemed that whoever visited Arthur had left only to return with reinforcements. This was unsettling; despite their losses the fort still had the knights and Romans who had returned with Arthur. This was a step too many. They were arrogant not posting scouts ahead and Merlin would use that to his advantage.

"As soon as they are all in the forest come round behind them and on my signal attack." His lieutenant nodded.

"Sir…" a voice gasped running up the old man. He was a scout.

"What is it?"

"The knights are in the clearing of the moon pool."

Merlin frowned. This was a new development.

"Wait until the soldiers come across them and then attack. I told Arthur I would not spare him or them on our next meeting and I intend to show him that. Show no mercy and kill them all."

OO


	33. Chapter 33

Authors notes: Thank you to my lovely reviewers and your great comments. A. that was praise indeed and I am very grateful, I hope it continues to retain your interest. As you can gather I am back from graduation which went off without a hitch and with all of us looking like rejects from Hogwarts! Anyways on with the story. Enjoy!

OO

"Crassus is going to kill you." Gawain said watching from his position sprawled on the ground next to the pool sopping wet.

Lancelot shrugged as he went about searching his saddle bags for something. He was wet as were all the others. Galahad had tripped and fallen in the pool. Gawain had attempted to get him out but had unfortunately chosen to do so from a very slippery mud bank. One thing had led to another and they were now all very wet. Lancelot also felt very sore.

"Not just me. I'll tell him it was all your fault." He shouted as he latched on to something and pulled it free. Tristan watched him examine a piece of leather and he realised what it was. Walking over to Lancelot quickly and quietly he saw that the knight was struggling to put it on.

"Let me." He whispered. The knight glanced at the scout and held out both the leather and his wrist. Tristan softly ran his fingers over the raised scar the woad had given Lancelot before gently trying the piece of leather Tristan had made tightly over his wrist.

"Thank you." Lancelot murmured genuine gratitude shining in his eyes.

"It is nothing but if it has shown you that you are only a slave in designation then it has done its duty. You may have killed but you have also saved life therefore you are not a monster or a savage. Remember that. You are strong of soul and nothing can take that away from you."

Tristan moved away and Lancelot swallowed harshly, blinked and breathed in deeply letting it out slowly. Scrubbing his eyes hastily he turned around to face the others; he secured his swords to his back and walked back towards the others casually insulting Bors as he passed. The large knight spluttered indigently as the others laughed.

"We should get back before Arthur has a fit. I think you lot were meant to be on patrol earlier." Lancelot spoke and watched as the others groaned good naturedly.

"We'll blame you." Bors said seriously. "It will work."

"Hush!" Tristan exclaimed suddenly halting and tilting his head to the side as if listening to something.

"There are men on foot approaching."

"Woads?" Gawain asked as he quickly got to his feet and picked up his sword.

"No too loud and heavy. Romans." The others could now hear the sounds of marching feet approaching and awaited their arrival with wariness.

The Roman detachment marched into the clearing with all the arrogance one associates with the Roman army. Upon seeing the knights the leader ordered a halt and with perfect precision the unit did so.

"State your names." A young man demanded stepping forward.

"State your name." Lancelot responded crossing his arms. The man turned to face him and took another step forward.

"And you are?"

"And you are?" Lancelot repeated and he heard Bors snort behind him. The Roman looked like he was going to stamp his foot in anger and frustration.

"Answer the question." The man stated angrily. Lancelot wondered for a few seconds if he should carry on Roman-baiting but decided to spare Arthur later grief.

"Lancelot."

It was like Lancelot had insulted the Roman's mother not introduced himself. The others noticed it too and closed ranks.

"So you are the Sarmatian knights?" the man questioned as if confirming something.

"Yes and you are?" Gawain asked trying to divert the man's attention from Lancelot but not succeeding.

"The man who is going to arrest you."

"Really?" Lancelot said with interest. He now knew who this man was. Marcellus.

"Yes for gross insubordination and striking a senior officer."

Lancelot sighed. "Firstly I am not a Roman nor am I in the Roman army therefore he couldn't be my senior officer. Secondly I didn't strike him I punched him and thirdly again I am not in your army therefore speaking my mind cannot be punished."

Marcellus's mouth had opened in shock. It was amusing.

"Just thought to let you know." Lancelot shrugged and turned round to head back to Scimitar. Galahad's cry of warning made him turn round sword raised and aimed at the man's throat, Marcellus's sword fell to the ground at his feet. The rest of his detachment moved forward but were dissuaded from doing something by the rest of the knights.

"So you want to add murder to the list? Can't say I am surprised…savages." Marcellus spat.

Lancelot stepped backwards lowering his sword. "I wouldn't like to give you the satisfaction but do not try that again."

"Arthur is going to hear about this when we get to the fort." Marcellus sounded like a child about to go running to his mummy.

"Indeed he will." Lancelot replied.

The knights were soon mounted. Lancelot moved Scimitar around in circles annoying the legionaries who had to keep moving out of the way.

"Are you quite done?" Marcellus snapped.

"Oh sorry are you ready to go?" Gawain asked innocently which was answered with a glare from the roman.

The group began to move when Tristan whirled his mare around.

"Woads!" he cried. His announcement was accompanied by a rain of arrows taking down three legionaries. This was followed by screams as the woad painted warriors burst out of the tree line and the trees themselves. A woad swung from a tree knocking Galahad off his horse and sending the animal to its knees. Lancelot too found himself with a woad sat behind him trying to pull him off. Using as much force as he could he propelled himself backwards taking both of them off the back of Scimitar. The landing was hard and for a moment they were both still. Then Lancelot sprung into action, rolled off the man, grabbed one of his knives and gutted the woad. Tristan was immediately by his side. It was an unconscious action that a knight who had been recently injured in a fight would be shadowed by another. Gawain had Galahad and vice versa same with Bors and Dagonet. Tristan and Lancelot always drifted together, along with Arthur when he wasn't directing things from afar in larger scale conflicts.

The Romans had been as surprised as the knights and had let their guard down content to watch their commander argue with the knights. This worked in the woads favour as they managed to get in between them before ranks were closed. As a result they were scattered and the knights had to adapt their fighting technique as they usually did when fighting with others not their own but allies. This however did not apply to the Romans, one of which had barely avoided skewering Dagonet only to be thumped into unconsciousness by Bors in retaliation. Lancelot saw this and cursed.

"Pack it in Bors." He yelled and the man snarled at him in return. Lancelot then had to swiftly look to his own situation when a roman blade caught him in the side. It was Marcellus. The knight staggered and Marcellus had a falsely apologetic look on his face. Lancelot replied with a curse and moved away.

The woads were increasing in number; obviously all had not been committed in the first attack. Lancelot knew that his body could not withstand an intense and prolonged battle. If it didn't end soon he would be in serious trouble. Luckily or unluckily he didn't have to find out how long he would last because a blow to the back of the end rendered him dead to the world.

Tristan looked behind to check on Lancelot and saw him hit the ground. The knight shouldn't have been fighting.

"Galahad!" he called to the young knight who was closest to him.

"Get to your horse as soon as you are able and ride for help."

Galahad saw Lancelot and nodded offering no resistance. As soon as a horse neared him he grabbed it and was off like a rabbit being chased by a fox.

Tristan moved to stand near Lancelot and the rest of the knights were rallying towards them. Soon they were in an impenetrable circle against a heaving mass of woads with unfriendly Romans adding to the fray.

'Another lovely day on the island of Britain' Gawain thought sarcastically before all thinking other than that concerned with battle shut down.

OO


	34. Chapter 34

Authors notes: Thanks again for the reviews. Having a crap day today as I work for a temp agency at the moment and they double booked the place I was meant to be so I was sent home. Brilliant! Anyways rant over with. Enjoy the story because it shall soon be over… :-)

OO

Lancelot groaned and woke up. He fully expected to have Dagonet's axe protruding from his head but after some tentative feeling of his skull there proved to be nothing apart from a large bump.

Opening his eyes slowly he saw the battle was over and no one was around apart from the dead. Barely an arms width away from him was a dead woad his eyes wide open. Lancelot scrambled backwards memories of his torture vivid. He quickly tried to calm his breathing and slow his racing heart.

Looking around all he could see were dead people. Now in a battle deaths were inevitable but in the aftermath there were usually those with terrible injuries who were moaning and screaming in pain. There was nothing of the sort just an abnormal and eerie silence. He pushed himself to his feet and scanned the ground for his swords and knife. They hadn't moved too far from where he had fallen and he picked them up swaying as he bent down. Then without warning he threw up. When he eventually stopped he wanted no more than to curl up and sleep but it was not to be so.

Back on his feet he wandered, slightly dazed, among the bodies sometimes tripping over one as his vision became blurry for a few seconds. So far all he had seen were dead Romans and woads, no knights and his heart beat lighter. Now all he had to do was figure out where they had gone. They wouldn't have left him there even if they thought he was dead. The woads must have overwhelmed all of them and taken them away leaving him behind as dead.

Standing tall he sighed deeply.

'Right tracks' he thought scanning the mud around the battlefield. They were easy to spot despite the woads natural ability to become invisible because of the prisoners they were moving. He followed the tracks sometimes weaving off the path to clutch a tree as his balance and vision rolled like a ship.

It was getting darker but Lancelot plodded on determined to find his friends. He gave no thought to the fact that he wouldn't be able to do much of anything when and if he found them. Luckily for him the woads hadn't moved far and it took him only a few minutes…hours…umm he hadn't really an idea of how long he had been walking. He was actually frankly surprised that he hadn't been shot with an arrow considering how much attention he had been paying to his surroundings. Putting one foot in front of another was occupying most of his time.

The woads had placed their prisoners in the centre surrounded by a guard. There would be no hope of him creeping in and somehow releasing them all, he would need a distraction. Luckily causing problems was something he excelled at. Fire was always a good one but they were in a forest and huge raging inferno would be a disaster probably burning them all alive.

On the far side of camp the woads had tied a few horses, the knights own. These animals caused havoc on a daily basis so he hoped he could turn that to his benefit.

Walking was becoming an increasing problem as his head injury was worse than he expected therefore he crawled. As soon as he was close enough he clucked his tongue softly watching as a familiar stallion lifted his head and pricked his ears. Scimitar sighted him almost immediately and seconds after that he could tell that his master was injured. With a sharp whinny Scimitar began to pull at the rope securing him to the tree. His increasing agitation resulted in the others acting up as well. Lancelot allowed himself a small grin as he slid back into the trees.

O

Tristan was the first who realised something was going on. He was the most coherent at the present time as the woads had not been gentle with them. Galahad, who had failed to make it far, and Dagonet were unconscious. Gawain blinked owlishly and didn't seem to know where he was whereas Bors was grouchy which was mostly normal. The Romans were also sporting a number of pains and injuries. Unfortunately for them Marcellus was still alive and glaring at them as if it were all their fault.

Lancelot. Tristan was sure the man was still alive when he had fallen but he had seen the woads move across the battlefield and kill all those who couldn't walk. He hoped that they had somehow missed the knight. His hopes increased dramatically when he heard the almost silent clucking noise. He had only heard that from one person. Lancelot. He was always making that funny noise around Scimitar. When the horses began to act up he knew it was the knight. How he had managed to follow them considering how hard he had been hit over the head was quite startling. That man was extremely stubborn and that stubbornness could result in the most extraordinary acts and feats which he often demonstrated although he would always play them down.

The horses were doing their jobs well and several woads had headed over there to investigate. Scimitar kicked out at several of them and then managed to pull free. The woads now had to deal with a wild horse desperate to find its master and several other animals fired up at seeing one of them free and distressed. As more went to investigate the others became more alert fearful of an attack. They watched the trees more closely the way they had come but they did not expect or see the lone figure crawling out of the trees behind them.

Tristan felt something at his wrists and looked down to see Lancelot slicing through the rope. The man quickly moved on as the rope fell slack. Trying not to move fast and therefore alert the woads that he was free he reached for the small knife he always had in his boot. The woads hadn't searched him well.

Soon almost half of them of them were free. The horses were still causing their distraction quite well and Scimitar had a number of woads on the ground clutching various body parts.

"What's the plan?" Bors whispered.

"Umm kill them all?" Lancelot whispered back.

"Great."

"Where are our weapons?" Bors asked looking around. Lancelot shrugged.

"Well this is a crap plan." Marcellus snarled.

"Tell you what I will tie you up again and leave you here. Feel free to come up with a better plan." Lancelot responded staring straight at him radiating a quiet hatred that halted the man's comments.

"That's what I thought."

They were all free but the problem of no weapons and an army of alert woads was a major one. Lancelot moved back into the trees and Tristan wondered what he would do next. He watched the horses that were still playing up and more now had gotten free. Scimitar suddenly reared up and galloped into the trees, Lancelot had called him.

What was he planning? It had better not be what he thought it would be!

Just as he had thought Tristan caught movement and then a horse and rider burst into the clearing.

Lancelot.

The man looked like a wild savage even wilder than the woads. Scimitar reared up and then slammed down again. Tristan caught the wince of pain that flashed across Lancelot's features. He was paying for this.

"Where is Merlin?" he cried.

"He's going to get himself killed." Bors exclaimed.

"If they wanted that he would already be dead." Tristan pointed out.

"So what?"

Tristan shrugged. "Let's not debate the finer points of his action and find some way to get some weapons and get out of here."

Bors nodded and set about bringing Gawain and Dagonet to full awareness. It was time for action.

OO


	35. Chapter 35

Authors notes: Thanks again to my lovely reviewers. Hope you are all well and lets get on with the story…

OO

Plautius stood amid the massacre for the moment completely lost for words.

"Sir!" a voice called. He turned to see his second in command pointing at a body by his feet.

"This is one of Chief Centurion Marcellus's men."

Plautius moved to see for himself. Indeed it was one of the Romans who had left that morning.

"Do you think they were ambushed sir?"

"Probably although I would have thought the woads wouldn't have been so active considering."

"Woads don't act as we would like them to or this would be a lovely peaceful place with lots of women sir." Cato, his second in command, commented with a wistful note to his voice.

Plautius looked around and frowned in confusion.

"What is it sir?" Cato asked.

"Why were they here? They would have surely made more time than this?"

"Unless they were coming back to the fort for some reason sir?"

"Damn it! He and Arthur had exchanged words concerning Marcellus's desire to arrest Lancelot. He said he would be back."

Cato nodded.

"Where are the knights sir?" he asked.

"No idea although after many years of practice I have decided that taking the most pessimistic outcome possible concerning the knights usually leads to the right one so…" Plautius sighed and began to think the worst.

"The worst case scenario that I can come up with is that the knights were doing whatever they do when they disappear for hours. The Romans stumbled across them and I would suggest it wasn't all sunshine and daisies. Then the woads attacked them and probably overwhelmed them considering there seem to be no survivors. I would guess those that did live were taken."

Cato looked at him in surprise.

"There are two things that scare me about you sir. Firstly you are becoming increasingly morbid and secondly you seem to know too much about the knights and their actions…sir" he added belatedly at Plautius's look.

"If that is all that concerns you about me Cato then I consider myself as doing quite well." Plautius chuckled and Cato joined him.

"Well we better be off. Knights and Romans to find, Woads to kill and I hear Vanora is making her famous meat stew so lets be quick about it!"

"Yes sir." Cato said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Plautius just patted Cato on the back.

O

Lancelot hadn't thought this plan through but he had hoped that the others would have moved, taking advantage of his distraction, before now. Merlin had appeared in the clearing and Lancelot was completely without an idea of how to proceed.

"What can I do for you knight?"

"I demand you set them free unless you want the entire Roman army following me."

Merlin cocked his head to the side and watched the knight glare back at him. The knight was lying. He could see desperation on Lancelot's face. Arthur's second was trying to create a distraction.

"Check the prisoners." He ordered. Several woads did so but Lancelot moved Scimitar to block them.

"What is your answer?" Lancelot demanded as he shifted Scimitar closer to the others. With a tiny movement he dropped two knives.

"My answer is no. Now get off your horse!"

"I don't think so."

"Drag him off."

Just as the woads grasped his legs Tristan and Bors leapt up followed by several others. Screaming various profanities they lunged at the woads nearest to them. On a signal from Lancelot Scimitar reared up and kicked out with his front hooves striking one man hard in the chest. He was killed instantly.

Merlin was momentarily startled but he was not surprised. The knights were not ones to be taken lightly and he had underestimated them. He should have moved the prisoners further at the least, really the knights should have been killed instantly but he had decided against that which was his mistake. He was now paying the price.

The element of surprise had worked well and many woads were taken out of the fight before they had a chance to raise arms.

The situation became more catastrophic when a fresh detachment of Roman infantry entered into the fray. Merlin knew he had been defeated in this battle and he called a withdrawal. The war was not over and they would live to fight another day.

Bors was immensely disappointed when the 'blue bastards' fled into the trees.

"Come back and fight you cowards!" he roared. "Too scared to take on the mighty Bors are you!"

"More likely repulsed by the mighty smell of Bors." Lancelot said steering Scimitar away from the suddenly enraged man.

Tristan smirked but then suddenly moved to grab Gawain who had gained his feet and was staggering about asking for some eggs.

"Do you have some eggs?" he asked quietly but determined.

"Yes but you have to come with me."

Gawain nodded and stood patiently like a child. Lancelot manoeuvred Scimitar next to them. He dismounted.

"Gawain you and I are going to ride home together and you can have all the eggs you want."

The knight with assistance of the two was placed without grace but gently in the saddle. They did not make fun as more than one of them had been knocked practically senseless in the past and had wandered the battlefield asking for the most inane things having no idea of their present situation.

"Plautius!" Lancelot cried spotting the roman as he moved Gawain's legs into a more secure position.

"What are you doing here?" the knight questioned.

"Saving your arse by the look of it." He responded.

"Really? I wondered what all the screaming and running was. I thought maybe someone had a splinter and you were trying to find the nearest Roman senator to report this great injustice imposed upon you by the trees of Britain."

Plautius's detachment looked upon him in stunned amazement but Plautius laughed loudly.

"Oh dear lord…" Plautius spluttered as he continued laughing letting all the tension from the past few days out.

"How do you come up with those?" he asked. Lancelot smirked at him and shrugged.

"Natural talent."

"I am sure that's what it is!" Plautius said sarcastically.

Lancelot was about to respond when Gawain lurched suddenly towards him. He grabbed hold of the blonde knight and pushed him upwards.

"KNIGHTS MOUNT UP!" He ordered. For a brief second the knights' looked at each other noting how quickly Lancelot had slipped into command mode.

"IS THERE A PROBLEM?" he shouted. With big smiles Bors mounted with Dagonet in front of him. Tristan did the same with Galahad.

"No Lancelot. There is not a problem anymore." Bors said smiling despite their narrow escape from disaster.

"Good. Plautius are there any who need litters?"

The Roman did a quick check over and noted four were hurt beyond their capability to walk. There were at least eight who could just about stagger with help. Lancelot considered this.

"Can they ride? Galahad, Gawain and Dagonet's horses are not being ridden."

"No but some of the others can."

Again Lancelot paused to think.

"New plan. Plautius we divide the forces in half. Half go back with the injured knights. The remainder make up some litters and return with the more seriously wounded."

The roman nodded and ordered some of his men to set about making litters.

"Excuse me a moment." A new voice sneered. "But who died and gave you command?"

"Unfortunately not you!" Lancelot exclaimed.

"I see now how the insubordination charge came about."

"Oh good. I am happy to know your powers of observation are still very much apparent."

Plautius stepped forward to stop the impending fight that would guarantee Lancelot time in prison for the foreseeable future.

"Chief Centurion what is your suggestion sir?"

"We all go together. Split up and we are easier to attack. There is no logical argument for us dividing into two groups." Marcellus said. "Now get off your horse slave."

Lancelot was off his horse and had punched Marcellus to the ground before anyone could react. Immediately the bloodlust of the two groups of Romans rose and they moved. Marcellus's to take down Lancelot and the others to block them. Not to protect Lancelot but to save further bloodshed as they knew the knights would protect their own.

Plautius was furious.

"Hold!" he snapped to all present gently lying Gawain on the ground after having just caught him when Lancelot leapt off. Bors was in the process of handing Dagonet to a Roman but halted when Plautius yelled. Marcellus was sitting up blood pouring from his nose and a smile of satisfaction on his face.

"Congratulations you have brought about your own demise knight of Sarmatia."

Plautius quickly rose expecting Lancelot to react further but instead the knight stumbled to the ground next to Gawain.

"I am sorry Gawain." He murmured and then he fell over backwards unconscious. The adrenaline rush had worn off and now his injuries specifically his head wound had overwhelmed him.

"At last we shall have silence." Marcellus said and set about ordering his men to get ready to leave. Seeing that any control he had over the group had been removed Plautius knelt next to Lancelot and began attending to his wounds. Slowly the knights joined him. They realised that their situation was getting a lot better but Lancelot's, despite the seeming restoration of his personality and mood, had experienced a sharp decline.

OO


	36. Chapter 36

Authors notes: Thanks again to my loyal reviewers. Enjoy!

OO

The trip back to the fort was a slow and drawn out process. Lancelot remained in an exhausted slumber clutched tightly to Tristan's chest. Marcellus had attempted to put the knight in chains but a little knife at the throat put pay to that. Now Tristan was in as much trouble as Lancelot. If it hadn't been for Plautius there would have been another massacre.

The knights were grouped together riding a short distance from the Romans refusing to listen to Marcellus's demands that they situate themselves closer to the group. Plautius also rode with them with Galahad in his arms and Dagonet had regained consciousness and was riding alone with Bors taking care of Gawain. They were an unhappy group all of them thinking about what was going to happen when they rode in. Marcellus was clearly delighting in their impending punishment. He fully intended to charge Lancelot and Tristan with assault as well as Lancelot's other charges. He was also determined to charge the other knights and Tristan didn't think this was going to be easily sorted out. Arthur would try desperately to protect them but faced with such overwhelming evidence there was going to be little he could do without appearing to be favouring a group of slaves. If that happened Arthur could be removed from his command and that would prove disastrous.

Lancelot for one wouldn't let that happen. He would act a martyr and make sure only himself went down.

"So what do we say?" Bors questioned quietly.

"I'd rather doubt we could get a word in edgeways. Marcellus is going to be ranting for some time."

"Arthur is going to be pissed."

"That's an understatement."

"What about him?" Bors said and Tristan knew immediately that he was referring to Lancelot.

Tristan shrugged and looked up to see the wall and fort come into view.

"We are about to find out."

The rest of the journey proceeded in silence. The massive heavy gates of the fort groaned as they were opened and the group entered.

O

Arthur stood in the courtyard with Jols and watched as the battered and weary group filed in.

"Bring medics." He ordered Jols as he moved forward determined to find out what had happened. He spotted Plautius and the knights quickly.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded furious and anxious at the same time.

"Woads." Plautius said. "Ambushed the knights and a party of Romans. They suffered heavy casualties and were captured."

"And you found them and freed them…?"

"We helped; they were in the process of escaping when we arrived."

Arthur sighed. 'Why was nothing EVER simple with them?'

"Artorius Castus we meet again."

Arthur's expression become one of a long suffering man.

"Chief Centurion Marcellus. What happened? You miss this fort that much you had to return?" he snapped sarcastically.

"I told you I would be back."

"I had hoped you were lying."

Marcellus smiled a sly grin of a man who knew something damning. Arthur felt his own levels of concern rise dramatically.

"I bet you did but I feel I should let you know that the charges could not remain unanswered. Indeed during the course of this debacle I have further charges to add to the ones that the knight Lancelot already faces as well as new charges to that of the knight Tristan. Both of these men are to be placed in prison immediately and you and I are going to have a long talk."

There was nothing he could do to prevent Marcellus from doing what he had said without showing blatant favouritism and the smug man knew it.

Arthur turned to look at Tristan who had a senseless Lancelot in his arms.

"It is fine Arthur." The scout said. Arthur nodded.

"Take them down and put them in prison." Marcellus ordered. Arthur bit his lip as Lancelot was dragged from Tristan's mare. Tristan got down; glared at the two Roman soldiers until they let him walk unaided.

"Arthur!" Bors exclaimed.

"Silence. Knights look to yourselves and then wait in the main hall. I will join you there shortly." He snapped. At that moment Jols arrived with the medics and the courtyard dissolved into an organised chaos.

"Chief Centurion Marcellus lets talk in my office. Plautius if you are able I would like you to join us as well."

Plautius nodded. "I will be there shortly."

"Castus." Marcellus snapped indicating they should go in the direction of Arthur's office.

"That is Commander Castus to you." He sneered. Arthur had had a rest and was completely ready to face Marcellus.

O

Bors and Dagonet were stood outside Arthur's office, after having given up on waiting in the hall, listening to the shouting that was going on inside. Arthur, Marcellus and Plautius had been in there for little over an hour and the shouting had started soon after. The topic of conversation was Lancelot at the beginning but it soon moved onto the knights in general and then Arthur himself.

"I could have you on charges of insubordination. I am a commander and I am a roman regardless of who I command. I outrank you and you have no authority to command me to do anything." Arthur snarled.

"Now listen to me…" Marcellus started.

"NO that is how it is. Tristan and Lancelot will not go unpunished. I am not weak and I can do what is needed to discipline my men."

"I highly doubt that."

"That is not your place to do or don't… Is this your first command?" Arthur said suddenly changing the direction of the conversation.

"How is that relevant?" Marcellus said suspiciously.

"Because you have not had enough experience to realise that discipline has to be dealt out but not without careful consideration. You put someone to death and there are massive repercussions within a whole unit. I will only condemn a man to death if he had betrayed us. These circumstances do not warrant it and I would lose all chance of commanding these knights if I did so. If a rebellion is what you want then a rebellion is what you are going to get. They will both be given prison sentences and it will go on their records."

"That is hardly punishment." Marcellus scoffed.

"So what would you have us do?" Plautius asked. "Arthur has already explained why death is not an option. If you kill him for this what do you do with the murders, traitors? Kill them? If you die for something small like insubordination why not just kill the person? Make it permanent? The punishment is the same and therefore you just encourage worse crimes."

Marcellus appeared to be considering Plautius's words and then he nodded ceding the point despite his wish not to. His father had told him not to make enemies especially of those who are in favour in Rome. Arthur and his 'legendry knights' were spoken of greatly and often with awe for their feats. He did not want to go back and explain why he had ordered the execution of one for a trivial matter of insubordination but still striking an officer was an offence that was punished by death. How could he be a good roman and not demand that for someone who was a slave?

"There is still the matter of striking a senior officer." Marcellus said quietly. The steam had gone from his voice and now all he wanted was to leave this base and never to return. Life on the frontiers was not for him.

Arthur sighed at this. "I have spoken to Lancelot and to my squire Jols who witnessed the incident. The roman in question was apparently mishandling a woman. Lancelot repeated told him to stop but he refused. He saw no other option. The fort was besieged and everyone thought they were going to die. Tempers were frayed."

"Tempers are always frayed in battle." Marcellus countered. "That is no excuse."

"Lancelot had been tortured and drugged. He was not in a fit state of mind. However he managed to save this fort and those within it including roman soldiers." Plautius pointed out.

Marcellus looked at the pair of them and realised that he could do nothing. They would not see reason and he had no one to back him up. The knights had friends here and he didn't. He would leave and file a report which will probably be lost amid the piles of paperwork that the administration seemed to produce. That was the way the empire worked.

"Fine I see that blatant favouritism is in operation here and justice will not be dealt out. Henceforth there is no reason for my continued presence. I will remove myself and my men immediately." He turned and left making sure to slam the door behind him.

The two men paused for breath relishing the silence.

"Do you think he will be back this time?"

"No. I doubt anything will come of it. He will file a report and bear a grudge but he will probably be transferred back to Rome as soon as possible."

"Good."

"What will you do with Lancelot and Tristan?"

"Tristan will spend tonight in prison. Lancelot one week."

Plautius smirked.

"Rather you than me."

"Considering his state Lancelot will not be walking or doing much of anything in the near future. He will understand."

Plautius just shook his head and turned to leave. "Oh did Lancelot really ask the soldier to stop?" he questioned.

"I highly doubt it. He is not a man of many words sometimes. Punch first, maybe ask questions later." Arthur said with a smile.

"I will see Marcellus out. If I hear screaming coming from the prison I will evacuate the area."

"You do that. Shouldn't be too hard."

Plautius laughed and they left, Plautius to the courtyard Arthur to the prison.

OO


	37. Chapter 37

Authors notes: The final chapter! I wish to thank everyone who has reviewed; you have been brilliant and cheered me immensely. Please review with your thoughts on the story plus any hints on how to improve my writing (I know my grammar etc is not the best :-)). Also what you liked about it or disliked etc. I plan to continue writing but I am heading off in just over two weeks to Botswana for 3 months (I am both excited and terrified) so I won't start anything before I go but I will be writing if I can there in a notebook to post when I get home. I hope to continue in this genre and also try some CSI which I have been itching to do… Anyways enough with the blabber. You have been a great audience…Enjoy!

OO

"Are you just going to sit there and watch me?" Lancelot asked softly without opening his eyes. He knew Arthur had been sat in the corner of his cell for at least an hour. Lancelot had been hoping that he would go away. Instead Arthur just sat still in silence.

Arthur didn't respond and Lancelot opened his eyes.

The cell wasn't as bad as some he had been in. It was damp and cold as the sun never reached it because of the lack of windows but it was not bone chilling. Arthur was sat in the corner on a chair he had obviously brought in with him as the extremely uncomfortable cot that Lancelot was currently led on was the only piece of furniture in the room, but it was a prison cell and you couldn't expect luxury.

He had been awake for many hours on and off. As there was nothing for him to do but sleep he had lazily dozed trying to regain some strength. He was not surprised to awake in a cell, Arthur had no option and Lancelot held no grudge.

"So are you disappointed in me?" he questioned.

"Should I be?" Arthur responded.

Lancelot sighed and rolled onto his side with a grimace.

"Most people would be."

"Well I am not most people. I know you Lancelot."

"And you expected nothing less." Lancelot murmured. It was always said the truth hurts.

"No that is not what I meant." Arthur protested rising to step forward and kneel beside the cot.

"Then speak plainly. Why can no one speak plainly? Why does everyone hide behind elaborate and long drawn out speeches? I am a simple man."

Arthur stared into Lancelot's soft brown eyes. For a brief moment the knight looked young, vulnerable and scared. It was quickly covered but Arthur had seen it all the same.

"You are not simple. You are a complex man let no one ever accuse you of being simple." Arthur demanded. Lancelot looked away and then attempted to move into a sitting position. Arthur quickly attempted to help but Lancelot waved him away. The roman tried to ignore Lancelot's little gasps of pain.

"Sit here." Lancelot indicated the space next to him. Arthur did as requested.

"Prison huh!" he said leaning his head against the wall with a wry smile.

"What did you expect me to do? You have hit two soldiers and my god the insubordination that you have committed is beyond belief. You know Marcellus wanted you executed."

"So am I awaiting my execution?" Lancelot asked and Arthur turned to him with a shocked expression.

"NO!"

"Why not?" the knight demanded. "You are going to get in trouble."

Arthur was stunned. "Because you don't deserve it and you saved this fort."

"And?" Lancelot prompted waiting for the words he knew were coming. Arthur shook his head.

"And?" Lancelot said again.

"Because you are my best friend." The man admitted reluctantly.

Lancelot cursed. "You are jeopardising both your life and career for me. I am not worth it."

"Why don't you let me decide what is worth it and what is not."

"Because you are so naïve in many ways Arthur. I know you desire to see people treated equally but I do not want you to be hurt trying to protect me. I can protect myself."

Arthur turned to regard Lancelot carefully.

"You have to be more careful. You are right I am more lax than other commanders and indeed your first commander…" Arthur paused as he saw Lancelot flinch at his mention. "but look at the amount of trouble you have gotten yourself in."

"Its not like it is a surprise Arthur. If you weren't my commander then I wouldn't still be here."

Arthur bowed his head at the inevitable truth. When Lancelot and the other knights had come to him there had been massive problems due to the attitudes and abuse of those that had come before him. The Sarmatian idea was heading for disaster and Arthur had been lucky but it so easily could have gone the other way.

Silence again claimed the pair as they thought about the same things.

"How are you?" Arthur said finally asking the question he had wanted to ask when he had arrived.

"Oh and don't lie. Whatever you say I am not going to tell anyone else even Crassus, you know that."

"Tired. So very very tired." He whispered. "So much has happened so quickly and it is very hard to take in. Perhaps being in here will be good to give me time to adjust, think it over."

To anyone else this conversation would have been startling but it was only in a quiet conversation that the serious side of Lancelot was brought forth. He had two sides to him, public and private.

"Well." Arthur said with an attempt to introduce his punishment. "You have a week with which to contemplate as much as you want."

Lancelot laughed bitterly. "A week that's it. I deserve a lot more."

Arthur grabbed Lancelot by the arm. "You don't deserve that. I've already said that. I would have been hard pressed not to hit some of them."

Lancelot pulled away and swallowed harshly.

"But you wouldn't have and that is the difference between you and me."

"I wouldn't want you to be like me. That's what I love about you. You can do the things I can't say or do. I would never want you to change." Arthur impressed desperately upon the knight.

Lancelot smiled slightly and then suddenly slumped forward and threw up. Arthur leaned forward to rub his back trying to offer some comfort as the fact that he was injured made itself apparent again.

"Lay down." Arthur ordered and Lancelot did as he was told. Arthur gathered the blanket and moved it to cover the man. As he lifted Lancelot's arm he noticed the new leather wrap around the scar. He examined it and saw the marks.

"Tristan?" he asked. Lancelot nodded.

"It means freedom." He whispered as he dropped off to sleep. Arthur brushed some hair off Lancelot's forehead.

"You will be free my friend I will see to it if it is the last thing I do." He promised. The roman rose to his feet to go and find Crassus.

An almost silent whisper reached him as he put his hand on the door.

"It had better not be."

Arthur smiled shook his head and left.

O 2 Weeks Later O

"Woohoo!" An excited voice screamed as a bay horse burst out of the stables and charged across the courtyard out of the gates.

"Lancelot! LANCELOT!" a voice shouted. The occupants of the courtyard who had darted out of the way in surprise at the charging horse now watched as Crassus ran across after.

"I SAID ONLY LIGHT DUTIES! GET BACK HERE!" he continued yelling. Only Lancelot's laughter could be heard as he turned Scimitar back towards the gates.

The stallion trotted back in and came to a halt a few paces in front of the puffing doctor.

"I am hardly moving." Lancelot said back with a broad grin. Crassus's face turned red as he prepared to berate the knight into an early grave.

"You don't stand a chance." Gawain's voice said from behind the doctor and he saw the other knights' mounted with broad grins.

"See you later." Bors yelled as they galloped past and Lancelot whirled Scimitar to follow.

"If you wanted him to do light duties you should have chained him to the saddle cleaning rack." Arthur said as he joined the doctor.

"I never learn." Crassus moaned as he watched the knights' gallop into the distance.

"He'll be fine. The others will look after him."

"That's what I am scared of. Unholy terrors the lot of them."

Arthur chuckled and slapped the doctor on the back.

"We wouldn't have it any other way."

"No I guess not. Although I wish he would listen to me more often."

"He knows his limits."

Crassus and Arthur turned to head back inside discussing the knights various faults and merits. Things had changed but then again some things remained the same and as a new day dawned it filled those alive who could see it with hope for the future.

OO


End file.
